diff options
| author | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-14 20:06:31 -0700 |
|---|---|---|
| committer | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-14 20:06:31 -0700 |
| commit | 15a8c654d69025669ff6b4c1400381da12f32dc9 (patch) | |
| tree | b582e3b261498a93fce2771cff4ec0ab4a1a10e7 /36775-h | |
Diffstat (limited to '36775-h')
| -rw-r--r-- | 36775-h/36775-h.htm | 8079 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | 36775-h/images/cover.jpg | bin | 0 -> 160251 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 36775-h/images/i-003.jpg | bin | 0 -> 10678 bytes |
3 files changed, 8079 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/36775-h/36775-h.htm b/36775-h/36775-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..a337f76 --- /dev/null +++ b/36775-h/36775-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,8079 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of Humorous Readings and Recitations, by Leopold Wagner. + </title> + <style type="text/css"> + + p { margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; + } + hr { width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; + } + + table {margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;} + + body{margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + } + + .pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */ + /* visibility: hidden; */ + position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-size: smaller; + text-align: right; + } /* page numbers */ + + .pdir { position: absolute; right: 10%; text-align: right;} + + .notebox {border: solid 2px; padding: 1em; margin: auto; width: 80%; background: #CCCCB2;} + .blockquot{text-align: right;} + .pblockquot{margin-left: 5%; margin-right: 5%; margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 2em;} + + .bb {border-bottom: solid 2px;} + .bl {border-left: solid 2px;} + .bt {border-top: solid 2px;} + .br {border-right: solid 2px;} + .bbox {border: solid 2px;} + + .center {text-align: center;} + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + .u {text-decoration: underline;} + + .caption {font-weight: bold;} + + .figcenter {margin: auto; text-align: center;} + + .poem {margin-left:10%; margin-right:10%; text-align: left;} + .poem br {display: none;} + .poem .stanza {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;} + .poem span.i0 {display: block; margin-left: 0em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i1 {display: block; margin-left: 1em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i2 {display: block; margin-left: 2em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i3 {display: block; margin-left: 3em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i4 {display: block; margin-left: 4em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i5 {display: block; margin-left: 5em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i6 {display: block; margin-left: 6em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Humorous Readings and Recitations, by Various + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Humorous Readings and Recitations + In prose and verse + +Author: Various + +Editor: Leopold Wagner + +Release Date: July 18, 2011 [EBook #36775] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HUMOROUS READINGS AND RECITATIONS *** + + + + +Produced by Delphine Lettau and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<img src="images/cover.jpg" width="600" height="776" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 80%;" /> +<p> </p> +<h2>HUMOROUS READINGS</h2> + +<h5>AND</h5> + +<h2>RECITATIONS.</h2> +<p> </p> + +<hr style="width: 80%;" /> +<h1>HUMOROUS READINGS</h1> + +<h5>AND</h5> + +<h1>RECITATIONS</h1> + +<h3><i>IN PROSE AND VERSE</i>.</h3> + +<p> </p> +<h4>SELECTED AND EDITED</h4> + +<h5>BY</h5> + +<h2>LEOPOLD WAGNER,</h2> + +<h5>EDITOR OF<br /> +"MODERN READINGS AND RECITATIONS,"<br /> +"NEW READINGS FROM AMERICAN AUTHORS," ETC.</h5> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 253px;"> +<img src="images/i-003.jpg" width="253" height="235" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<p> </p> +<h4>London and New York:<br /> + +FREDERICK WARNE AND CO.<br /> + +1889.</h4> + + +<hr style="width: 80%;" /> +<h5>LONDON:<br /> + +BRADBURY, AGNEW, & CO., PRINTERS, WHITEFRIARS.</h5> + + + +<hr style="width: 80%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_v" id="Page_v">[Pg v]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="PREFACE" id="PREFACE"></a>PREFACE.</h2> + + +<p>In introducing to the public a Third Series of "Popular Readings," I +consider it merely necessary to state that the courtesy of authors and +publishers has enabled me to bring together a choice selection of +humorous pieces which have acquired a large share of popularity, in +addition to a number of others that may justly be regarded as novelties.</p> + +<p>Concerning the former, I have so often had occasion to answer inquiries +respecting particular pieces for recitation, that it occurred to me the +handy collection of those most generally sought after, but hitherto +scattered through various publications, would be welcomed by many; and I +took steps accordingly. How far I have succeeded in my purpose a glance +at the Contents-list will show. For the fresh matter admitted to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_vi" id="Page_vi">[Pg vi]</a></span> these +pages, I sincerely trust that from among so many new candidates for +popularity, at least one or two of them may be elected to represent the +Penny Reading Constituents of each respective Borough for some time to +come.</p> + +<p>Once more I beg to express my indebtedness and thanks to those authors +and publishers who have so generously placed their copyright pieces at +my disposal.</p> + +<p style='text-align: right'>L. W.</p> +<p style='font-size: smaller'><span class="smcap">Brompton.</span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 80%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_vii" id="Page_vii">[Pg vii]</a></span></p> +<h2>CONTENTS.</h2> + +<div class="center"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tr><td align='left'> </td><td align='left'> </td><td align='right'><small>PAGE</small></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#ACCOMPANIED_ON_THE_FLUTE"><span class="smcap">Accompanied on the Flute</span></a></td><td align='left'><i>F. Anstey</i></td><td align='right'>1</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#THE_TROUBLES_OF_A_TRIPLET"><span class="smcap">The Troubles of a Triplet</span></a></td><td align='left'><i>W. Beatty-Kingston</i></td><td align='right'>8</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#SLIGHTLY_DEAF"><span class="smcap">Slightly Deaf</span></a></td><td align='left'><i>Bracebridge Hemming</i></td><td align='right'>10</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#THE_LADY_FREEMASON"><span class="smcap">The Lady Freemason</span></a></td><td align='left'><i>H. T. Craven</i></td><td align='right'>18</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#WHAT_HAPPENED_LAST_NIGHT"><span class="smcap">What Happened Last Night!</span></a></td><td align='left'><i>F. B. Harrison</i></td><td align='right'>24</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#THE_FATAL_LEGS"><span class="smcap">The Fatal Legs</span></a></td><td align='left'><i>Walter Browne</i></td><td align='right'>27</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#THE_CALIPHS_JESTER"><span class="smcap">The Caliph's Jester</span></a></td><td align='left'><i>From the Arabic</i></td><td align='right'>29</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#A_JOURNEY_IN_SEARCH_OF_NOTHING"><span class="smcap">A Journey in Search of Nothing</span></a></td><td align='left'><i>Wilkie Collins</i></td><td align='right'>32</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#GEMINI_AND_VIRGO"><span class="smcap">Gemini and Virgo</span></a></td><td align='left'><i>C. S. Calverley</i></td><td align='right'>37</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#KING_BIBBS"><span class="smcap">King Bibbs</span></a></td><td align='left'><i>James Albery</i></td><td align='right'>41</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#MOLLY_MULDOON"><span class="smcap">Molly Muldoon</span></a></td><td align='left'><i>Anonymous</i></td><td align='right'>48</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#THE_HARMONIOUS_LOBSTERS"><span class="smcap">The Harmonious Lobsters</span></a></td><td align='left'><i>Robert Reece</i></td><td align='right'>52</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#THE_PROVINCIAL_LANDLADY"><span class="smcap">The Provincial Landlady</span></a></td><td align='left'><i>H. Chance Newton</i></td><td align='right'>57</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#MY_MATRIMONIAL_PREDICAMENT"><span class="smcap">My Matrimonial Predicament</span></a></td><td align='left'><i>Leopold Wagner</i></td><td align='right'>58</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#ETIQUETTE"><span class="smcap">Etiquette</span></a></td><td align='left'><i>W. S. Gilbert</i></td><td align='right'>62</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#A_LOST_SHEPHERD"><span class="smcap">A Lost Shepherd</span></a></td><td align='left'><i>Frank Barrett</i></td><td align='right'>65</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#A_MATHEMATIC_MADNESS"><span class="smcap">A Mathematic Madness</span></a></td><td align='left'><i>F. P. Dempster</i></td><td align='right'>70</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#WAITING_AT_TOTTLEPOT"><span class="smcap">Waiting at Tottlepot</span></a></td><td align='left'><i>J. Ashby-Sterry</i></td><td align='right'>72</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#MARRIED_TO_A_GIANTESS"><span class="smcap">Married to a Giantess</span></a></td><td align='left'><i>Walter Parke</i></td><td align='right'>75</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#THE_VISION_OF_THE_ALDERMAN"><span class="smcap">The Vision of the Alderman</span></a></td><td align='left'><i>Henry S. Leigh</i></td><td align='right'>79</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#THE_DEMON_SNUFFERS"><span class="smcap">The Demon Snuffers</span></a></td><td align='left'><i>Geo. Manville Fenn</i></td><td align='right'>80</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#THE_WALRUS_AND_THE_CARPENTER"><span class="smcap">The Walrus and the Carpenter</span></a></td><td align='left'><i>Lewis Carroll</i></td><td align='right'>86</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#MY_BROTHER_HENRY"><span class="smcap">My Brother Henry</span></a></td><td align='left'><i>J. M. Barrie</i></td><td align='right'>89</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#A_NIGHT_WITH_A_STORK"><span class="smcap">A Night with a Stork</span></a></td><td align='left'><i>W. E. Wilcox</i></td><td align='right'>92</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#THE_FAITHFUL_LOVERS"><span class="smcap">The Faithful Lovers</span></a></td><td align='left'><i>F. C. Burnand</i></td><td align='right'>95</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#THE_WAIL_OF_A_BANNER-BEARER"><span class="smcap">The Wail of a Banner-Bearer</span></a></td><td align='left'><i>Arthur Matthison</i></td><td align='right'>96</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#THE_DREAM_OF_THE_BILIOUS_BEADLE"><span class="smcap">The Dream of the Bilious Beadle</span></a></td><td align='left'><i>Arthur Shirley</i></td><td align='right'>99</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#MY_FRIEND_TREACLE"><span class="smcap">My Friend Treacle</span></a></td><td align='left'><i>Watkin-Elliott</i></td><td align='right'>101<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_viii" id="Page_viii">[Pg viii]</a></span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#THE_VOICE_OF_THE_SLUGGARD"><span class="smcap">The Voice of the Sluggard</span></a></td><td align='left'><i>Anonymous</i></td><td align='right'>107</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#ARTEMUS_WARDS_VISIT_TO_THE_TOWER_OF_LONDON"><span class="smcap">Artemus Ward's Visit to the Tower of London</span></a></td><td align='left'><i>Chas. Farrar Browne</i></td><td align='right'>108</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#MR_CAUDLE_HAS_LENT_AN_ACQUAINTANCE_THE_FAMILY_UMBRELLA"><span class="smcap">Mr. Caudle has lent an Acquaintance the Family Umbrella</span></a></td><td align='left'><i>Douglas Jerrold</i></td><td align='right'>111</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#DOMESTIC_ASIDES"><span class="smcap">Domestic Asides</span></a></td><td align='left'><i>Tom Hood</i></td><td align='right'>113</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#THE_CHARITY_DINNER"><span class="smcap">The Charity Dinner</span></a></td><td align='left'><i>Litchfield Moseley</i></td><td align='right'>115</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#ACTING_WITH_A_VENGEANCE"><span class="smcap">Acting with a Vengeance</span></a></td><td align='left'><i>W. Sapte, Jun.</i></td><td align='right'>120</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#MY_FORTNIGHT_AT_WRETCHEDVILLE"><span class="smcap">My Fortnight at Wretchedville</span></a></td><td align='left'><i>George Augustus Sala</i></td><td align='right'>126</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#THE_SORROWS_OF_WERTHER"><span class="smcap">The Sorrows of Werther</span></a></td><td align='left'><i>W. M. Thackeray</i></td><td align='right'>132</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#MORAL_MUSIC"><span class="smcap">Moral Music</span></a></td><td align='left'><i>Anonymous</i></td><td align='right'>133</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#BILLY_DUMPS_THE_TAILOR"><span class="smcap">Billy Dumps, the Tailor</span></a></td><td align='left'><i>Charles Clark</i></td><td align='right'>136</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#ON_PUNNING"><span class="smcap">On Punning</span></a></td><td align='left'><i>Theodore Hook</i></td><td align='right'>139</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#SEASIDE_LODGINGS"><span class="smcap">Seaside Lodgings</span></a></td><td align='left'><i>Percy Reeve</i></td><td align='right'>140</td></tr> +</table></div> + +<hr style="width: 80%;" /> +<h1>HUMOROUS READINGS</h1> + +<h5>AND</h5> + +<h1>RECITATIONS.</h1> + + + +<hr style="width: 80%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[Pg 1]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="ACCOMPANIED_ON_THE_FLUTE" id="ACCOMPANIED_ON_THE_FLUTE"></a>ACCOMPANIED ON THE FLUTE.</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">F. Anstey.</span></h3> + + +<p>The Consul Duilius was entertaining Rome in triumph after his celebrated +defeat of the Carthaginian fleet at Mylæ. He had won a great naval +victory for his country with the first fleet that it had ever +possessed—which was naturally a gratifying reflection, and he would +have been perfectly happy now if he had only been a little more +comfortable.</p> + +<p>But he was standing in an extremely rickety chariot, which was crammed +with his nearer relations, and a few old friends, to whom he had been +obliged to send tickets. At his back stood a slave, who held a heavy +Etruscan crown on the Consul's head, and whenever he thought his master +was growing conceited, threw in the reminder that he was only a man +after all—a liberty which at any other time he might have had good +reason to regret.</p> + +<p>Then the large Delphic wreath, which Duilius wore as well as the crown, +had slipped down over one eye, and was tickling his nose, while (as both +his hands were occupied, one with a sceptre the other with a laurel +bough, and he had to hold on tightly to the rail of the chariot whenever +it jolted) there was nothing to do but suffer in silence.</p> + +<p>They had insisted, too, upon painting him a beautiful bright red all +over, and though it made him look quite new, and very shining and +splendid, he had his doubts at times whether it was altogether becoming, +and particularly whether he would ever be able to get it off again.</p> + +<p>But these were but trifles after all, and nothing compared with the +honour and glory of it! Was not everybody straining to get a glimpse of +him? Did not even the spotted and skittish<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[Pg 2]</a></span> horses which drew the +chariot repeatedly turn round to gaze upon his vermilioned features? As +Duilius remarked this he felt that he was, indeed, the central personage +in all this magnificence, and that, on the whole, he liked it.</p> + +<p>He could see the beaks of the ships he had captured bobbing +up and down in the middle distance; he could see the white +bulls destined for sacrifice entering completely into the spirit of +the thing, and redeeming the procession from any monotony by +occasionally bolting down a back street, or tossing on their +gilded horns some of the flamens who were walking solemnly in +front of them.</p> + +<p>He could hear, too, above five distinct brass bands, the +remarks of his friends as they predicted rain, or expressed a +pained surprise at the smallness of the crowd and the absence of +any genuine enthusiasm; and he caught the general purport of +the very offensive ribaldry circulated at his own expense among +the brave legions that brought up the rear.</p> + +<p>This was merely the usual course of things on such occasions, +and a great compliment when properly understood, and Duilius +felt it to be so. In spite of his friends, the red paint, and the +familiar slave, in spite of the extreme heat of the weather and +his itching nose, he told himself that this, and this alone, was +worth living for.</p> + +<p>And it was a painful reflection to him that, after all, it would +only last a day; he could not go on triumphing like this for the +remainder of his natural life—he would not be able to afford it +on his moderate income; and yet—and yet—existence would +fall woefully flat after so much excitement.</p> + +<p>It may be supposed that Duilius was naturally fond of ostentation +and notoriety, but this was far from being the case; on +the contrary, at ordinary times his disposition was retiring and +almost shy, but his sudden success had worked a temporary change +in him, and in the very flush of triumph he found himself sighing +to think, that in all human probability, he would never go +about with trumpeters and trophies, with flute-players and +white oxen, any more in his whole life.</p> + +<p>And then he reached the Porta Triumphalis, where the chief +magistrates and the Senate awaited them, all seated upon spirited +Roman-nosed chargers, which showed a lively emotion at the +approach of the procession, and caused most of their riders to +dismount with as much affectation of method and design as their +dignity enjoined and the nature of the occasion permitted.</p> + +<p>There Duilius was presented with the freedom of the city and +an address, which last he put in his pocket, as he explained, to +read at home.</p> + +<p>And then an Ædile informed him in a speech, during which he twice lost +his notes, and had to be prompted by a lictor, that the grateful +Republic, taking into consideration the Consul's distinguished services, +had resolved to disregard expense, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[Pg 3]</a></span> on that auspicious day to give +him whatever reward he might choose to demand—"in reason," the Ædile +added cautiously, as he quitted his saddle with an unexpectedness which +scarcely seemed intentional.</p> + +<p>Duilius was naturally a little overwhelmed by such liberality, and, like +every one else favoured suddenly with such an opportunity, was quite +incapable of taking complete advantage of it.</p> + +<p>For a time he really could not remember in his confusion anything he +would care for at all, and he thought it might look mean to ask for +money.</p> + +<p>At last he recalled his yearning for a Perpetual Triumph, but his +natural modesty made him moderate, and he could not find courage to ask +for more than a fraction of the glory that now attended him.</p> + +<p>So, not without some hesitation, he replied that they were +exceedingly kind, and since they left it entirely to his discretion, +he would like—if they had no objection—he would like a flute-player +to attend him whenever he went out.</p> + +<p>Duilius very nearly asked for a white bull as well; but, on +second thoughts, he felt it might lead to inconvenience, and +there were many difficulties connected with the proper management +of such an animal. The Consul, from what he had seen +that day, felt that it would be imprudent to trust himself in +front of the bull, while, if he walked behind, he might be mistaken +for a cattle-driver, which would be odious. And so he gave +up that idea, and contented himself with a simple flute-player.</p> + +<p>The Senate, visibly relieved by so unassuming a request, +granted it with positive effusion; Duilius was invited to select +his musician, and chose the biggest, after which the procession +moved on through the arch and up the Capitoline Hill, while +the Consul had time to remember things he would have liked +even better than a flute-player, and to suspect dimly that he +might have made rather an ass of himself.</p> + +<hr style='width: 25%;' /> + +<p>That night Duilius was entertained at a supper given at the public +expense; he went out with the proud resolve to show his sense of the +compliment paid him by scaling the giddiest heights of intoxication. The +Romans of that day only drank wine and water at their festivals, but it +is astonishing how inebriated a person of powerful will can become, even +on wine and water, if he only gives his mind to it. And Duilius, being a +man of remarkable determination, returned from that hospitable board +particularly drunk; the flute-player saw him home, however, helped him +to bed, though he could not induce him to take off his sandals, and +lulled him to a heavy slumber by a selection from the popular airs of +the time.</p> + +<p>So that the Consul, although he awoke late next day with a bad headache +and a perception of the vanity of most things, still<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[Pg 4]</a></span> found reason to +congratulate himself upon his forethought in securing so invaluable an +attendant, and planned, rather hopefully, sundry little ways of making +him useful about the house.</p> + +<p>As the subsequent history of this great naval commander is examined with +the impartiality that becomes the historian, it is impossible to be +blind to the melancholy fact that in the first flush of his elation +Duilius behaved with an utter want of tact and taste that must have gone +far to undermine his popularity, and proved a source of much +gratification to his friends.</p> + +<p>He would use that flute-player everywhere—he overdid the thing +altogether: for example, he used to go out to pay formal calls, and +leave the flute-player in the hall tootling to such an extent that at +last his acquaintances were forced in self-defence to deny themselves to +him.</p> + +<p>When he attended worship at the temples, too, he would bring the +flute-player with him, on the flimsy pretext that he could assist the +choir during service; and it was the same at the theatres, where +Duilius—such was his arrogance—actually would not take a box unless +the manager admitted the flute-player to the orchestra and guaranteed +him at least one solo between the acts.</p> + +<p>And it was the Consul's constant habit to strut about the Forum with his +musician executing marches behind him, until the spectacle became so +utterly ridiculous that even the Romans of that age, who were as free +from the slightest taint of humour as a self-respecting nation can +possibly be, began to notice something peculiar.</p> + +<p>But the day of retribution dawned at last. Duilius worked the flute so +incessantly that the musician's stock of airs was very soon exhausted, +and then he was naturally obliged to blow them through once more.</p> + +<p>The excellent Consul had not a fine ear, but even he began to hail the +fiftieth repetition of "Pugnare nolumus," for instance—the great +national peace anthem of the period—with the feeling that he had heard +the same tune at least twice before, and preferred something slightly +fresher, while others had taken a much shorter time in arriving at the +same conclusion.</p> + +<p>The elder Duilius, the Consul's father, was perhaps the most annoyed by +it; he was a nice old man in his way—the glass and china way—but he +was a typical old Roman, with a manly contempt for pomp, vanity, music, +and the fine arts generally, so that his son's flute-player, performing +all day in the courtyard, drove the old gentleman nearly mad, until he +would rush to the windows and hurl the lighter articles of furniture at +the head of the persistent musician, who, however, after dodging them +with dexterity, affected to treat them as a recognition of his efforts +and carried them away gratefully to sell.</p> + +<p>Duilius senior would have smashed the flute, only it was never laid +aside for a single instant, even at meals; he would<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[Pg 5]</a></span> have made the +player drunk and incapable, but he was a member of the <i>Manus Spei</i>, and +he would with cheerfulness have given him a heavy bribe to go away, if +the honest fellow had not proved absolutely incorruptible.</p> + +<p>So he would only sit down and swear, and then relieve his feelings by +giving his son a severe thrashing, with threats to sell him for whatever +he might fetch; for, in the curious conditions of ancient Roman society, +a father possessed both these rights, however his offspring might have +distinguished himself in public life.</p> + +<p>Naturally, Duilius did not like the idea of being put up to auction, and +he began to feel that it was slightly undignified for a Roman general +who had won a naval victory and been awarded a first-class Triumph to be +undergoing corporeal punishment daily at the hands of an unflinching +parent, and accordingly he determined to go and expostulate with his +flute-player.</p> + +<p>He was beginning to find him a nuisance himself, for all his old shy +reserve and unwillingness to attract attention had returned to him; he +was fond of solitude, and yet he could never be alone; he was weary of +doing everything to slow music, like the bold, bad man in a melodrama.</p> + +<p>He could not even go across the street to purchase a postage-stamp +without the flute-player coming stalking out after him, playing away +like a public fountain; while, owing to the well-known susceptibility of +a rabble to the charm of music, the disgusted Consul had to take his +walks abroad at the head of Rome's choicest scum.</p> + +<p>Duilius, with a lively recollection of these inconveniences, +would have spoken very seriously indeed to his musician, but +he shrank from hurting his feelings by plain truth. He simply +explained that he had not intended the other to accompany him +<i>always</i>, but only on special occasions; and, while professing the +sincerest admiration for his musical proficiency, he felt, as he +said, unwilling to monopolise it, and unable to enjoy it at the +expense of a fellow-creature's rest and comfort.</p> + +<p>Perhaps he put the thing a little too delicately to secure the +object he had in view, for the musician, although he was deeply +touched by such unwonted consideration, waved it aside with a +graceful fervour which was quite irresistible.</p> + +<p>He assured the Consul that he was only too happy to have +been selected to render his humble tribute to the naval genius +of so great a commander; he would not admit that his own rest +and comfort were in the least affected by his exertions, for, +being naturally fond of the flute, he could, he protested, perform +upon it continuously for whole days without fatigue. And he +concluded by pointing out very respectfully that for the Consul +to dispense, even to a small extent, with an honour decreed (at +his own particular request) by the Republic, would have the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[Pg 6]</a></span> +appearance of ingratitude, and expose him to the gravest suspicions. +After which he rendered the ancient love-chant, +"Ludus idem, ludus vetus," with singular sweetness and +expression.</p> + +<p>Duilius felt the force of his arguments. Republics are proverbially +forgetful, and he was aware that it might not be safe +even for him, to risk offending the Senate.</p> + +<p>So he had nothing to do but just go on, and be followed about +by the flute-player, and castigated by his parent in the old +familiar way, until he had very little self-respect left.</p> + +<p>At last he found a distraction in his care-laden existence—he +fell deeply in love. But even here a musical Nemesis attended +him, to his infinite embarrassment, in the person of his devoted +follower. Sometimes Duilius would manage to elude him, and +slip out unseen to some sylvan retreat, where he had reason to +hope for a meeting with the object of his adoration. He +generally found that in this expectation he had not deceived +himself; but, always, just as he had found courage to speak of +the passion that consumed him, a faint tune would strike his +ear from afar, and, turning his head in a fury, he would see his +faithful flute-player striding over the fields in pursuit of him +with unquenchable ardour.</p> + +<p>He gave in at last, and submitted to the necessity of speaking +all his tender speeches "through music." Claudia did not seem +to mind it, perhaps finding an additional romance in being +wooed thus; and Duilius himself, who was not eloquent, found +that the flute came in very well at awkward pauses in the +conversation.</p> + +<p>Then they were married, and, as Claudia played very nicely +herself upon the <i>tibiæ</i>, she got up musical evenings, when she +played duets with the flute-player, which Duilius, if he had +only had a little more taste for music, might have enjoyed +immensely.</p> + +<p>As it was, beginning to observe for the first time that the musician was +far from uncomely, he forbade the duets. Claudia wept and sulked, and +Claudia's mother said that Duilius was behaving like a brute, and she +was not to mind him; but the harmony of their domestic life was broken, +until the poor Consul was driven to take long country walks in sheer +despair, not because he was fond of walking, for he hated it, but simply +to keep the flute-player out of mischief.</p> + +<p>He was now debarred from all other society, for his old friends had long +since cut him dead whenever he chanced to meet them. "How could he +expect people to stop and talk," they asked indignantly, "when there was +that confounded fellow blowing tunes down the backs of their necks all +the time?"</p> + +<p>Duilius had had enough of it himself, and felt this so strongly that one +day he took his flute-player a long walk through a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</a></span> lonely wood, and, +choosing a moment when his companion had played "Id omnes faciunt" till +he was somewhat out of breath, he turned on him suddenly. When he left +the lonely wood he was alone, and near it something which looked as if +it might once have been a musician.</p> + +<p>The Consul went home, and sat there waiting for the deed to become +generally known. He waited with a certain uneasiness, because it was +impossible to tell how the Senate might take the thing, or the means by +which their vengeance would declare itself.</p> + +<p>And yet his uneasiness was counterbalanced by a delicious relief: the +State might disgrace, banish, put him to death even, but he had got rid +of slow music for ever; and as he thought of this, the stately Duilius +would snap his fingers and dance with secret delight.</p> + +<p>All disposition to dance, however, was forgotten upon the arrival of +lictors bearing an official missive. He looked at it for a long time +before he dared to break the big seal, and cut the cord which bound the +tablets which might contain his doom.</p> + +<p>He did it at last; and smiled with relief as he began to read: for the +decree was courteously, if not affectionately, worded. The Senate, +considering (or affecting to consider) the disappearance of the +flute-player a mere accident, expressed their formal regret at the +failure of the provision made in his honour.</p> + +<p>Then, as he read on, Duilius dashed the tablets into small fragments, +and rolled on the ground, and tore his hair, and howled; for the +senatorial decree concluded by a declaration that, in consideration of +his brilliant exploits, the State hereby placed at his disposal two more +flute-players, who, it was confidently hoped, would survive the wear and +tear of their ministrations longer than the first.</p> + +<p>Duilius retired to his room and made his will, taking care to have it +properly signed and attested. Then he fastened himself in; and when they +broke down the door next day they found a lifeless corpse, with a +strange sickly smile upon its pale lips.</p> + +<p>No one in Rome quite made out the reason of this smile, but it was +generally thought to denote the gratification of the deceased at the +idea of leaving his beloved ones in comfort, if not in luxury; for, +though the bulk of his fortune was left to Carthaginian charities, he +had had the forethought to bequeath a flute-player apiece to his wife +and mother-in-law.</p> + +<p class="blockquot">(<i>From</i> "<span class="smcap">The Black Poodle</span>," <i>by permission +of Messrs. Longmans, Green, & Co.</i>)</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 80%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="THE_TROUBLES_OF_A_TRIPLET" id="THE_TROUBLES_OF_A_TRIPLET"></a>THE TROUBLES OF A TRIPLET.</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">W. Beatty-Kingston.</span></h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I am, I really think, the most unlucky man on earth;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A triple sorrow haunts me, and has done so from my birth.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My lot in life's a gloomy one, I think you will agree;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Tis bad enough to be a twin—but I am one of three!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">No sooner were we born than Pa and Ma the bounty claimed;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I scarce can bear to think they did—it makes me feel ashamed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They got it, too, within a week, and spent it, I'll be bound,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Upon themselves—at least, I know I never had <i>my</i> pound.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Our childhood's days in ignorance were lamentably spent,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Although I think we more than paid the taxes, and the rent;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For we were shown as marvels, and—unless I'm much deceived—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The smallest contributions were most thankfully received.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">We grew up hale and hearty—would we never had been born!—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As like to one another as three peas, or ears of corn.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Between my brothers <i>Ichabod</i>, <i>Abimelech</i> and me<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No difference existed which the human eye could see.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">This likeness was the cause of dreadful suffering and pain<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To me in early life—it nearly broke my heart in twain;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For while my conduct as a youth was fervently admired,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That of my fellow-triplets left a deal to be desired.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I was amiable, and pious, too—good deeds were my delight,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I practised all the virtues—some by day and some by night;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whilst <i>Ichabod</i> imbrued himself in crime, and, sad to say,<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Abimelech</i>, when quite a lad, would rather swear than pray.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Think of my horror and dismay when, in the Park at noon,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An obvious burglar greeted me with, "Hullo, Ike, old coon!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He vanished. Suddenly my wrists were gripped by Policeman X——,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Young man, you are my prisoner on a charge of forgin' cheques."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He ran me in, and locked me up, to moulder in a cell,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The reason why he used me thus, alas! I know too well.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He took me for <i>Abimelech</i>, my erring brother dear,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who was "wanted" by the Bank of which he'd been the chief cashier.<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span></div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Next morn the magistrate remarked, "This is a sad mistake,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Though natural enough, I much regret it for your sake;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But if you will permit me to advise you, I should say<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Leave England for some other country, very far away.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"For if you go on living in this happy sea-girt isle,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Although your conduct (like my own) be pure and free from guile,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Your likeness to those sinful men, your brothers twain, will lead,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I fear, to very serious inconveniences indeed."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I took the hint, and sailed next day for distant Owhyhee,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As might have been expected, I was cast away at sea.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A Pirate Lugger picked me up, and—dreadful to relate—<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Abimelech</i> her captain was, and <i>Ichabod</i> her mate.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I loved them and they tempted me. To join them I agreed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Forsook the path of virtue, and did many a ghastly deed.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For seven years I wallowed in my fellow-creatures' gore,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And then gave up the business, to settle down on shore.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">My brothers on retiring from the buccaneering trade,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In which, I'm bound to say, colossal fortunes they had made,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Renounced their wicked courses, married young and lovely wives,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Went to church three times on Sundays, and led sanctimonious lives.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">As for me,—I somehow drifted into vileness past belief,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Earned unsavoury distinction as a drunkard and a thief;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">E'en in crime, ill-luck pursued me: I became extremely poor,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And was finally compelled to beg my bread from door to door.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I'm deep down in the social scale, no lower can I sink;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Upon the whole, experience induces me to think<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That virtue is not lucrative, and honesty's all fudge,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For <i>Ichabod's</i> a Bishop—and <i>Abimelech's</i> a Judge!<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="blockquot">(<i>From</i> "<span class="smcap">Punch</span>," +<i>by permission of the Proprietors</i>.)</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 80%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="SLIGHTLY_DEAF" id="SLIGHTLY_DEAF"></a>SLIGHTLY DEAF.</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">Bracebridge Hemming.</span></h3> + +<p>Mr. Loyd was a retired shopkeeper residing at The Lodge, +Norwood. He had amassed a fortune of thirty thousand +pounds in the grocery business, principally by sanding his sugar +and flouring his mustard, and other little tricks of the trade. +Yet he went to church every Sunday with a clear conscience. +At the time I introduce him to you he was a widower with one +son, Joseph, aged eighteen.</p> + +<p>Joseph was a shy, putty-faced youth, who had the misfortune +to be deaf. "Slightly deaf," his father called him, but he grew +worse instead of better, and threatened to become as deaf as a +post or a beetle in time. Of course his infirmity stood in the +way of his getting employment, for he was always making +mistakes of a ludicrous and sometimes aggravating nature. +Add to this that Joseph was very lean and his father very fat, +and you will understand why people called them "Feast and +Famine," or "Substance and Shadow."</p> + +<p>One morning after breakfast, Mr. Loyd, who had been +looking over some paid bills, exclaimed, "Joe."</p> + +<p>Joseph was reading the paper, and made no answer.</p> + +<p>"Joe," thundered his father.</p> + +<p>This time the glasses on the sideboard rang, and Joseph got +up, walked to the window and looked out.</p> + +<p>"What are you doing?" shouted Mr. Loyd.</p> + +<p>"I thought I heard the wind blow," replied Joseph.</p> + +<p>"Well! I like that; it was I calling."</p> + +<p>"You!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir."</p> + +<p>Joseph invariably grew very angry if he did not hear anybody, +for he was ashamed of his deafness; but he often fell into +a brown study and was as deaf as an adder.</p> + +<p>Besides this he was more deaf on one side than on the other, +as is often the case, and he happened to have his very bad ear +turned to his father.</p> + +<p>"Why don't you speak out?" said he.</p> + +<p>"I did," replied Mr. Loyd.</p> + +<p>"You always mumble."</p> + +<p>"I halloaed loud enough to wake the dead."</p> + +<p>"You know I'm slightly deaf."</p> + +<p>"Slightly! You'll have to buy an ear-trumpet."</p> + +<p>"Trumpet be blowed," answered Joseph.</p> + +<p>"Here, put these bills on the file," exclaimed Mr. Loyd, +pointing to the bundle.</p> + +<p>Joseph advanced to the table, took up the bills, and deliberately +threw them into the fire, where they were soon blazing merrily.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span></p> + +<p>Mr. Loyd uttered a cry of dismay, sprang up and ran to the +grate, but he was too late to save them.</p> + +<p>"You double-barrelled idiot!" he cried.</p> + +<p>"What's the fuss now?" asked Joseph calmly.</p> + +<p>He always was as cool as a cucumber, no matter what he did.</p> + +<p>"You'll never be worth your salt."</p> + +<p>"What's my fault?"</p> + +<p>"I said salt."</p> + +<p>"Keep quiet and I'll get you some."</p> + +<p>"No!" roared Mr. Loyd.</p> + +<p>"What did you say so for then? It seems to me you don't +know your own mind two minutes together."</p> + +<p>Mr. Loyd stamped his foot with impatience on the carpet.</p> + +<p>"Oh dear! what a trial you are," he exclaimed. "They +are receipted bills, and I told you to put them on the file. +F. I. L. E. Do you hear that?"</p> + +<p>"I hear it now," responded Joe. "It's a pity you won't speak up."</p> + +<p>"So I do."</p> + +<p>"They'll never call you leather-lungs."</p> + +<p>"Oh Joe, Joe! you'll be the death of me. You're a duffer, +and it is no use saying you're not. I was going to tell you I'd +got a berth for you, but I'm afraid you could not keep it."</p> + +<p>"What is it?"</p> + +<p>"Clerk in the office of my old friend, Mr. Maybrick, the +stockbroker."</p> + +<p>"Eh!" said Joseph. "What's a mockstoker?"</p> + +<p>"A stockbroker," shouted Mr. Loyd.</p> + +<p>"Why didn't you say so at first. Do you think I don't +know what that is? I'm not quite such a fool as that comes to."</p> + +<p>"You'd aggravate a saint, Joe."</p> + +<p>"Paint your toe! Have you gone mad?"</p> + +<p>"Great heavens! I shall hit you; get out," shrieked his father.</p> + +<p>"Got the gout. Oh! that's another thing. I thought you'd +have it. You drink too much port after dinner."</p> + +<p>"I say, Joe," cried Mr. Loyd, "are you doing this on +purpose? You don't understand a word I say; in fact, you +misconstrue everything."</p> + +<p>"If that is so I can't help it."</p> + +<p>"You're getting worse."</p> + +<p>"Don't do that," replied Joe gravely.</p> + +<p>"Eh?"</p> + +<p>"Don't curse me. If I am deaf, that is to say slightly deaf, +it is my misfortune, not my fault; you ought to make allowance +for me, and speak louder."</p> + +<p>"Do you want me to be a foghorn, or a river steam tug?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly not."</p> + +<p>"Or a cavalry man's trumpet, or a bellowing bull?"</p> + +<p>"No, father."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Or," continued Mr. Loyd with rising temper, "a spouting +whale, an Old Bailey barrister, a town-crier, a grampus, a +locomotive blowing off steam, an Australian bell-bird, or a +laughing jackass?"</p> + +<p>"I'm sure I never laugh, so you needn't fling that at me."</p> + +<p>"I wish you were dumb as well as deaf," groaned Mr. Loyd.</p> + +<p>"Why?"</p> + +<p>"Because I might then get you into the asylum."</p> + +<p>"File 'em," muttered Joseph. "He's still thinking of the bills."</p> + +<p>"Confound him," muttered his father. "He's worse than a +county court judgment. I don't know what to do with him."</p> + +<p>To soothe his nerves he lighted a cigar, and looking in the fire +puffed away at the weed, while Joe again took up the paper and +went on reading.</p> + +<p>Half-an-hour passed.</p> + +<p>Then Mr. Loyd said, "You know you're getting worse, but +you're so obstinate you won't admit it, and it's six to four +you'll not yield."</p> + +<p>Joseph looked up with irritating calmness.</p> + +<p>"No, thanks," he exclaimed.</p> + +<p>"What do you mean?"</p> + +<p>"I never bet."</p> + +<p>"Who talked about betting?" yelled his father.</p> + +<p>"You offered six to four on the field, and——"</p> + +<p>"I didn't. Yah!"</p> + +<p>"Never mind; I sha'n't take you," replied Joseph.</p> + +<p>Mr. Loyd got up and did a war dance.</p> + +<p>"Who asked you to?"</p> + +<p>"You did. It only wants six weeks to the Derby, and——"</p> + +<p>Mr. Loyd lost all control over himself for the moment. He +took up the coal-scuttle and threw it at his son, which was a very +reprehensible thing to do; but it did not hurt Joseph, for that +intelligent youth saw it coming, and ducking his head, it went +with a crash through the window into the street.</p> + +<p>"That's a clever thing to do," said Joseph, without so much +as winking. "You need not get mad because I won't bet."</p> + +<p>His father shook his fist at him.</p> + +<p>"You'll be my death," he replied, sinking into a chair with a +gasp.</p> + +<p>"I can't help it if I am deaf," rejoined the imperturbable +Joseph.</p> + +<p>"You're sharper than a serpent's tooth."</p> + +<p>"It wasn't very sharp of you to break the window."</p> + +<p>"Go to Putney!"</p> + +<p>"Where am I to get putty?" said Joseph. "Send for a +glazier."</p> + +<p>"Bless us and save us!" groaned Mr. Loyd.</p> + +<p>"There isn't much saving in having a broken window to +catch cold by."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span></p> + +<p>Mr. Loyd rushed into the hall, and taking down his hat and +coat from the rack, put them on.</p> + +<p>"Come up to town at once," he exclaimed; "we'll go and see +Mr. Maybrick."</p> + +<p>"What's the good of a hayrick?" asked Joseph simply.</p> + +<p>"Eh?"</p> + +<p>"You can't stop a hole in a window with a hayrick."</p> + +<p>"I said Maybrick, the broker," roared Mr. Loyd, putting his +hands to his mouth.</p> + +<p>"I do wish you'd speak out."</p> + +<p>"Get a trumpet. Yah!"</p> + +<p>"Trump it! we're not playing whist."</p> + +<p>"Oh dear!" sighed Mr. Loyd. "He must be apprenticed +to Maybrick. I'll pay a premium if it's a hundred pounds. I'm +not a hog, and don't want to enjoy this all by myself. I'll +share it with another. It's too much for one to struggle with. +I can't undertake the worry single-handed, it's too much."</p> + +<p>He had to go close up to Joseph and bawl in his ear to make +him understand what he wanted, for he had never found his +son's deafness so bad as it was that day.</p> + +<p>Joseph was quite willing to go, and quitting the house, they +took the train and went to town together.</p> + +<p>It was yet early in the day, and they reached the broker's +office about twelve, finding him in and at leisure. During the +journey, Mr. Loyd had impressed upon Joseph the necessity of +keeping his ears open as well as he could, for if he made any +mistakes he would soon get "chucked," as they say in the City, +and Joe promised to be as wideawake as his infirmity would +permit him.</p> + +<p>How wideawake this was, we shall see.</p> + +<p>Mr. Maybrick had done business with Mr. Loyd for many +years, and received him in his private office with all the cordiality +of an old friend.</p> + +<p>"Brought my boy to introduce to you," exclaimed the retired +grocer.</p> + +<p>"Very glad to know the young gentleman," replied Mr. +Maybrick; "take a chair. Have a cigar. Quite a chip of the +old block, I see; what's his name?"</p> + +<p>"Joseph. Joe for short."</p> + +<p>"Very good; now what can I do for you, are you going to +open stock?"</p> + +<p>"Not to-day."</p> + +<p>"Markets are very firm."</p> + +<p>"I didn't come for that purpose, Maybrick; I want to get the +youngster into your office."</p> + +<p>"Oh! yes," answered the broker, "I forgot; you spoke +about it a little while ago."</p> + +<p>"Last time I was up, when I bought those 'Russians'!"</p> + +<p>"Against my advice, and burnt your fingers over them."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span></p> + +<p>"True."</p> + +<p>"Well, I'll take him. One hundred pounds premium, no salary first year, +then seventy pounds and an annual rise according to ability."</p> + +<p>"That will do."</p> + +<p>"I hope he's smart."</p> + +<p>"Smart as a steel trap, though sometimes he's a little absent-minded; +and you've got to speak loudly, maybe more than once, but that's only +now and again. I'll write you a cheque and leave him here, so that he +will know the ropes."</p> + +<p>"Very well, I daresay we shall get on. I've ten clerks, and I've only +changed once in ten years."</p> + +<p>"That speaks well for you."</p> + +<p>"I read character, and I'm kind," said Mr. Maybrick. "Sit at my table, +you'll find pen and ink."</p> + +<p>While Mr. Loyd was getting out his cheque-book and writing the draft, +Mr. Maybrick turned his attention to his new clerk.</p> + +<p>"Have you ever been out before?" he queried.</p> + +<p>"Go out of the door?" replied Joe. "Yes sir, if you want to say anything +of a private nature, I'll go with pleasure."</p> + +<p>"No! no! do you understand work?"</p> + +<p>"I beg your pardon, I sha'n't shirk anything."</p> + +<p>"Bless me!" cried the broker, "I mean do you know business?"</p> + +<p>"No business," answered Joseph, with a solemn shake of the head; "I am +sorry for that; times are dull though, all round."</p> + +<p>"I've got plenty, you mistake me, don't run away with that idea, you +won't find this an easy place."</p> + +<p>"Got a greasy face, have I?" responded Joseph. "It's not very polite of +you to tell me that."</p> + +<p>"What the——" began Mr. Maybrick, when Joe's father handed him the +cheque.</p> + +<p>"There's the needful," exclaimed Mr. Loyd.</p> + +<p>"Thanks," replied the broker, adding, "I say, old friend isn't Master +Joseph a little hard of hearing?"</p> + +<p>"Oh! ah! not that exactly."</p> + +<p>"What then?"</p> + +<p>"He's got a cold in his head."</p> + +<p>"Is that all?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, he got his feet wet," said Mr. Loyd confidentially, +"and I had to bawl at him this morning."</p> + +<p>"I thought he was, ahem! a little deaf."</p> + +<p>"Bless you no, raise your voice, that's all you've got to do."</p> + +<p>"Ah! I see. It's bad to be like that," answered Mr. Maybrick, +whose doubts were removed. "The weather's been so +bad, everyone has had cold more or less."</p> + +<p>Telling the intelligent Joseph that he should expect him home +to dinner at seven, Mr. Loyd took leave of the broker, who gave +his new clerk some accounts to enter in a book, saying that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span> +he might sit in his office for the remainder of that day and +he would find him desk-room on the morrow, after which he +hurried away to see what was going on in the general room.</p> + +<p>Joseph hung up his hat and coat, and set to work. He certainly +meant to do his best. They say a certain place, which +the Hebrews call Sheol, is paved with good intentions; anyhow +the fates were against him. Never before had his deafness been +so bad. It seemed to have swooped down upon and swamped +him all at once.</p> + +<p>Scarcely had he begun his work than he was startled by the +ringing of a bell.</p> + +<p>It was just over his head and proceeded from the telephone.</p> + +<p>Now Joseph knew just as much about a telephone as he did +about the phonograph or the dot-and-dash system of telegraphy.</p> + +<p>He sprang from his chair, turned ghastly pale, and fancied +it was an alarm of fire.</p> + +<p>What should he do?</p> + +<p>For fully a minute he stood gazing vacantly at the box and +the bell.</p> + +<p>Then it rang again.</p> + +<p>Joseph jumped half-a-foot in the air.</p> + +<p>Then he rushed into the general room, where he found Mr. +Maybrick talking to a client.</p> + +<p>"Please sir, can I disturb you for a moment?" he said.</p> + +<p>"I'm very particularly engaged, Loyd," replied the broker.</p> + +<p>"Excuse me, but——"</p> + +<p>"What is it?"</p> + +<p>"There's a bell ringing."</p> + +<p>"Oh! the telephone. I forgot to tell you to attend to it."</p> + +<p>"It's rung twice."</p> + +<p>"Then somebody is in a hurry. Answer and come and tell +me what it is."</p> + +<p>"How do you do it, sir?"</p> + +<p>"Speak through the instrument, ask who it is, and what he +wants, and put the tube to your ear."</p> + +<p>The fright had somewhat stimulated Joseph's powers of hearing, +for he caught these instructions and hastened back to the +inner office. After a little experimenting he put himself in +communication, and the following colloquy ensued.</p> + +<p>"Who is it?" asked Joe.</p> + +<p>"Oliphant," was the reply.</p> + +<p>"Elephant," mused Joe. "That's funny."</p> + +<p>But he went at it again.</p> + +<p>"What do you want?"</p> + +<p>"By one o'clock, sell 10,000 Mex. Rails."</p> + +<p>Joe heard this order imperfectly.</p> + +<p>"Buy 10,000 ox-tails," he said to himself. "This is a queer business."</p> + +<p>Yet he was not discouraged.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span></p> + +<p>Joe had not come into the City for nothing. He meant to do +his duty or perish in the attempt.</p> + +<p>"Right," he answered. "Is that all?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. I'll call after lunch for the contract note."</p> + +<p>"Very well, sir."</p> + +<p>Having received his instructions, Joe, very proud of his success +in manipulating such a peculiar instrument as the telephone, +sought his employer.</p> + +<p>"Well, Loyd," exclaimed that gentleman.</p> + +<p>"It's all right, sir," replied Joe.</p> + +<p>"What is?"</p> + +<p>"The elephant wants you to buy him 10,000 ox-tails."</p> + +<p>Mr. Maybrick elevated his eyebrows.</p> + +<p>"Who did you say?" he demanded in a loud voice.</p> + +<p>"The elephant."</p> + +<p>"Mr. Oliphant, I suppose you mean."</p> + +<p>"Ah! it might have been Oliphant, or Boliphant, it was +something like that."</p> + +<p>"Ox-tails. Why not Mex. Rails.? Mexican Railways, you +know."</p> + +<p>"Humph," said Joe, "very likely."</p> + +<p>"Are you sure he said 'buy?'"</p> + +<p>"Oh! yes, sir, that was distinct enough, and he said he'd +come after lunch for the distracting note."</p> + +<p>"Contract note."</p> + +<p>"It may be that. The gentleman did not speak very +distinctly."</p> + +<p>"Oliphant has a low voice," said Mr. Maybrick, thoughtfully, +"but he's one of my best customers. Perhaps he's heard something; +he must have got some information. I'll have a bit in +this myself. Oliphant is a very shrewd and careful speculator. +That will do, Loyd."</p> + +<p>Joseph departed, highly delighted.</p> + +<p>"Ha! ha! ha!" laughed Mr. Maybrick when Joe had gone, +"my new clerk is an odd one; 'Buy 10,000 ox-tails for the +elephant,' that's good. I must tell that story in the House."</p> + +<p>He beckoned to his manager, who was a man named Mappin, +and told him to buy the required quantity of Mexican railway +stock.</p> + +<p>"Market's very weak, sir. It's fallen to-day one half already +in anticipation of a bad dividend," replied Mappin.</p> + +<p>"Can't help that."</p> + +<p>Mappin went away to execute the order.</p> + +<p>An hour elapsed, and a special edition of an evening paper +was brought into the office.</p> + +<p>It contained a telegram from Mexico, stating that there had +not been one revolution, and two earthquakes in that country +before breakfast, as usual, that morning. The railway dividend +was remarkably good, and Mexican Preference Stock went up<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span> +five per cent., at which price the broker took upon himself to +close the account, thinking his client would be well satisfied with +his profits.</p> + +<p>"Clever fellow, Oliphant," muttered Mr. Maybrick; "up to +every move on the board. Deuced clever!"</p> + +<p>At that moment Mr. Oliphant, who was a stout, red-faced +man, inclined to apoplexy, rushed into the office.</p> + +<p>He was agitated, and looked as if he was going to have a fit.</p> + +<p>"Close the account," he gasped.</p> + +<p>"I have done so," was the reply.</p> + +<p>"What at?"</p> + +<p>"A rise of five per cent."</p> + +<p>"It will ruin me," groaned Oliphant.</p> + +<p>"How? you telephoned me to buy."</p> + +<p>"I said 'sell.'"</p> + +<p>"Then my clerk made a mistake," exclaimed Maybrick; "but +it's a lucky mistake for both you and I, for I followed your +lead."</p> + +<p>"You're joking!"</p> + +<p>"Never was more serious in my life. I'll give you a cheque +at once."</p> + +<p>Mr. Oliphant's face brightened.</p> + +<p>"And I'll give your wooden-headed clerk a ten pound note," +he said.</p> + +<p>"That may console him for his dismissal," said Maybrick, +dryly.</p> + +<p>"Are you going to get rid of him?"</p> + +<p>"Most decidedly. I cannot afford to keep a clerk who makes +errors of that kind. This time it has come out all right; next +time it may be all wrong."</p> + +<p>"Just so," replied Mr. Oliphant.</p> + +<p>He handed Maybrick the ten pounds, which the broker gave +to Mappin, telling him to present it to Joseph, and inform him +that his services would not be any longer required, and the +premium his father had paid should be returned by post. Then +the broker gave Mr. Oliphant his unexpected profits, and they +went out to have a bottle of champagne together.</p> + +<p>Mappin sought Joseph.</p> + +<p>"What are you doing?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Doing sums," replied Joe, which was his idea of book-keeping.</p> + +<p>"Well, you need not do any more."</p> + +<p>"No, I don't think it a bore," said Joe. "It's all in the +day's work, don't you know?"</p> + +<p>"You're not wanted here."</p> + +<p>"Can't I hear? what do you know about it?"</p> + +<p>"The fool's deaf," cried Mappin, raising his voice. "Take +this tenner and go."</p> + +<p>Joe heard this plain enough.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Sacked!" he said, laconically.</p> + +<p>"Yes," replied Mappin, nodding his head vigorously.</p> + +<p>"What for?"</p> + +<p>"Playing the fool with the telephone. We've no use for you."</p> + +<p>"Oh! very well. I thought I shouldn't answer."</p> + +<p>"You see, we don't run our business on the silent system."</p> + +<p>Joe put on his hat and coat, with that perfect unconcern which +always distinguished him.</p> + +<p>"Good morning," he said, pocketing the note. "I say, I +don't think much of telephones, do you?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, it's a very clever invention."</p> + +<p>"Ah! there's no accounting for taste."</p> + +<p>With these words Joseph quitted the office, and took a walk +in the City.</p> + +<p class="blockquot">(<i>From</i> "<span class="smcap">Awful Stories</span>," <i>by permission of</i> +Messrs. <span class="smcap">Diprose & Bateman</span>.)</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 80%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_LADY_FREEMASON" id="THE_LADY_FREEMASON"></a>THE LADY FREEMASON.</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">H. T. Craven.</span></h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Vainly we seek it, Sanscrit or Greek writ<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In hist'ry, the myst'ry of Solomon's secret:—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The dark queen of Sheba p'raps tried to get hold of it,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But didn't; at least if she <i>did</i>, we're not told of it.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If McAbel of Lodge number one lets it slip,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His brother O'Cain of Lodge two, gives the grip<br /></span> +<span class="i1"><i>À la garotte</i> they say. Be that as it may,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Cowan is somehow put out of the way.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So now if you've fear for my prudence, dispel it;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">First place, I don't know—next, I don't mean to tell it<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But praise a shrewd guess, if you think I deserve it,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The cream of the secret is—<i>how to preserve it</i>!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A sworn brother mason who'd ever disseminate<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His knowledge, or blab, would be worse than effeminate!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On feminine weakness, though, let me be reticent,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rememb'ring the tale of the famous Miss Betty St.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ledger, whose name sheds a permanent grace on<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One fifty—the Lodge of the Lady Freemason.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">My Lord Doneraile, Ne'er known to fail<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In duties masonic, held land in entail<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span><span class="i0">With a mansion near Dublin, of such wide dimension,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That a Freemason's Lodge of no little pretension<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Was warranted, charter'd, and duly appointed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And worshipful ruler my lord was anointed.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No master, 'twas said, ever laid down the law so;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No masons kept secrets so sacred—or swore so!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">None drill'd and so skill'd were, in sep'rate degree,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By the P. M. presiding (of course my Lord D.)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It beggars description—you'd fail to appreciate<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The hubbub within when they met to '<i>initiate</i>.'<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Such tyling and tapping, Such knocking and rapping,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Such shrieks and such squeaks—such clapping and slapping<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Such mauling and hauling and tearing and swearing,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Such whisp'ring of secrets and 'tell-if-you-dare'-ing—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Such groans and such yells, And such roast-goosey smells,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When the poker was used—like the scene in 'The Bells'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You doubtless have thought so appalling—enerving—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You'd think 'twas some madman, who thought himself Irving;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The cauterization, On good information,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Amounted, I say, to a partial cremation;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And sore on the subject were all Erin's gay sons<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Next day, when the boys gave 'em sauce for 'fried masons.'<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Be it known that Miss Betty was Doneraile's daughter,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And one Richard Aldworth aspired to court her,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet made his advances with progress so scanty,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He really remain'd much <i>in statu quo ante</i>;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">His motto was '<i>Spero</i>,' But hope was at zero;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In the lady's eye Dick didn't pose as a hero<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When her father, Lord Doneraile, ask'd of him, whether<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He'd join the F.M.'s; he had shown the white feather!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whereat the proud beauty declared that no other<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Should e'er be <i>her</i> slave than 'a man and a <i>brother</i>':<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So Dick, having dined, and not quite <i>compos mentis</i>,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Agreed to go in for an 'entered apprentice.'<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The eve had arrived, and the hall so baronial,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Was deck'd in due form for the night's ceremonial;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Miss Betty, in passing downstairs, chanced to see<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tho' the Chubb had been lock'd, they had left in the key<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of a small ante-room of some minor utility,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But prized by the Lodge for its accessibility:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Miss said to herself, 'Tho' I fear the attempt, I<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Should like just to see what a Lodge is like—empty!'<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Oh! daughters of Eve, There are some who believe<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Your tongues are your weakness—your failing, verbosity;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">While others contend, You'll never amend<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of that fault Mrs. Bluebeard possess'd—curiosity!<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span><span class="i0">Now I—though I'd fain dub such slanders as petty—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Own they do say as much of dear, charming Miss Betty:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Tho' found to be equal, To hold tongue or speak well<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With other good masons—but wait for the sequel!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">In through this outer door—closing it warily;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Out through an inner door—softly and fairyly—<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>She's there!</i> In the Lodge, where wax tapers are blazing,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All deftly arranged with precision amazing:—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In the east for the Worshipful Boss is a throne.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In the west, Senior Warden—the places all shown<br /></span> +<span class="i0">(No doubt to prevent any squabbles or wrangles)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Initiall'd on chair-backs, in gilded triangles;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On a table deep myst'ries we must not unravel—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Mallet, the Plumb, and the Gauge, and the Gavel!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Other engines whose uses we fear to unriddle—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Thumb-screw—the Pincers—a Poker—a Griddle!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With tapers and papers and paraphernalia,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Blue ribbons and jewels and things call'd 'Regalia!'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The silence and solitude there were delicious;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And any one caring to feel superstitious,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Might fancy the ghosts of freemasons, translated<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To Lodges above—or below—reinstated,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Array'd in their mouldy old aprons; each brother<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Past Master, who'd passed from this world to another.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But horror of horrors! whilst here she was musing,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Came footsteps without, and—oh! sound most confusing!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She heard the key turned. (That same key that beguiled<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In the first-mention'd door.) <i>Now</i> 'twas lock'd and fast tyled!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She rush'd to the ante-room, wild to get back,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But this cooled her courage, 'twas now <i>cul de sac</i>;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And hark! In the Lodge—to augment her disaster—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Masons assembling, escorting the Master!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To hide while she thought how to 'scape from mishap,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She closed t'other door of this snug little trap;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That door has a crevice, and thereby new woes arise,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To secrets forbidden in vain 'tis to close her eyes;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How can she but note the masonic particulars,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With no cotton-wool to cram in her auriculars?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She heard her dad ask, most distinctly—and trembled<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At Dogberry's words—"Are we here all dissembled?"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then commenced ceremonials misty and mystical,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Questions and answers in form catechistical.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My lord, in a tone both emphatic and sonorous,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Impressing on each that his duties were onerous;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">(One duty, to Betty, seem'd highly improper—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Twas 'kill, without questioning, any eavesdropper!')<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span><span class="i0">When the master, with sudden and well-feigned dismay,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For he very well knew that he'd got it to say,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Cried 'Hark, there is danger, I feel that a stranger<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Who's seeking for knowledge is coming this way!'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Each took up a napkin—the end dipt in water,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And cried '<i>Porkitotius!</i> Give him no quarter!'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While outside the door sundry knocks loud and clamorous<br /></span> +<span class="i0">(As Vulcan might deal when in humour sledge-hammerous)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Were echoed within by three knocks—just the same,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With the pertinent query—'How now! What's your game?'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And a chap (<i>déshabillé</i>) in great perturbation<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is 'run in,' very much like a prig to a station.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Disguised as he was, through the <i>à-propos</i> hole<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The lady identified Aldworth's red poll,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And thought, 'Well, I wish you, poor fellow, good luck,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Or—more to the purpose—I wish you, good pluck!'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For her father was urging in solemn oration,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'You need, my young friend, for your fearful probation<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Endurance—true Courage—and strong Veneration!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'We commence with (don't grin, sir!) a pleasant frivolity:—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Just give of Endurance a taste of your quality;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">''Tis nothing—a towelling. Brothers, prepare!'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then each had a flick at Dick's legs—which were bare:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He danced and he pranced at each cut of the towel<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And prod from the rear with a sharp-pointed trowel,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And look'd—as he caper'd in lily-white kilt—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The ghost of a Highlander dancing a lilt.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">To Scotch eyes, however, The steps might seem clever,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dick show'd less a hero in Betty's than ever,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And shock'd, when he cried—cutting up rather rough—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'D longstroke your optics—hold hard! That's enough!'<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Enough?' said the worshipful, 'Yes, of this fun!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Stern proof of your courage has not yet begun;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'D'ye hear, sir, those knocks? Brothers, let in the stoker,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'And form a procession to bring in the poker!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'See the surgeon is ready to make all secure<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'With lancet and tourniquet, bandage and ligature!'<br /></span> +<span class="i1">But why freeze your marrow—Your feelings why harrow?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Your hearts are too soft and our space is too narrow<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To tell all the horrors! 'Twould fill you with awe<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To listen to half that Elizabeth saw:—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let us come to Dick's howl—such a howl!—which as soon<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As she heard it, Miss Betty fell down in a swoon<br /></span> +<span class="i1">All in a lump, With a bump and a thump<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That made all the brothers to gape and to jump.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And turn pale and cry, 'Bedad there's a spy<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shut up in that closet, and there he shall die!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span><span class="i0">To rush to the chamber—to find what was in it<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And seize the eavesdropper—was the work of a minute;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">To lift up and shake her, To rouse up and wake her<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To consciousness—then in the Lodge-room to take her,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Was work for six brothers, who cried as they brought her,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">'We've sought her and caught her!' My lord cried, 'My daughter!'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And sunk down as needing, himself, a supporter:—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">In rush'd the tylers, Crusty old file-ers!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With anger 'a busting their blessed old bilers;'<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Looking so grim at her, One raised his cimeter,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And to very short shift was advancing to limit her,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As 'Hold!' cried my lord, 'Hear your master—or rather,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'I'd speak to you all, as her judge—not her father!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Perchance she knows nothing, and, if she will swear it,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Her life shall be spared—<i>I</i>, your <i>Master</i>, will spare it!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Oh, tell me, my child, what you've seen—what you've heard?'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The truthful girl sobb'd, 'Ev'ry act! ev'ry word!'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Alas,' faltered he, 'you have seal'd your own doom!'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And 'Down with the spy!' cried each one in the room;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">One raised a dagger, Some shouted 'Scrag her!'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Some raised a trap-door, and rush'd forward to drag her,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When a voice like a thunder-clap topp'd all the rest,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And Dick semi-dress'd Presented his breast<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Before her, 'Strike <i>here</i>!' was his manly request:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">'Strike me if you dare, By jingo, I swear<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Of her you shall touch not so much as a hair!<br /></span> +<span class="i1">'I mean, my good sirs, Whatever occurs<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'To your lives or mine, you shall not take <i>hers</i>!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Her white arm how dare you place finger or fist on?'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Dick, shooting out his own arm like a piston,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Knock'd over a senior warden who held her;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sent spinning a middle-aged junior—his elder,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Hit out at a tyler, A blatant reviler,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mash'd the mug of a masher call'd 'Tim' the Beguiler;'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Look out!' cried another, 'The Saxon's a bruiser!'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And straightway got one on his 'conk'—a confuser!<br /></span> +<span class="i1">A dozen unitedly Shouted excitedly<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Fell him, or else this young fellow will wallop us!'<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Down went two deacons, Not very weak ones,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And a blow on the nose of the third burst a polypus,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When the hero (Dick now at the title arrives,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Denied him before he had handled his fives,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">So many bawling, Reeling and sprawling,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For each brother knocked down another in falling),<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Had 'flutter'd the Voices' from east to the west,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He paused like a warrior taking his rest,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or Spartan who'd caused lots of Persians to topple, he<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Took breath—as <i>he</i> did at a place call'd Thermopylæ.<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span></div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Now outspoke my lord in a masterful way,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'A truce and a parley! I've something to say!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">''Tis writ in our laws "If an eavesdropper pries<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'And filches our secrets, he (mark the <small>HE</small>!) dies!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Now this is a <i>she</i>—therefore <i>not</i> an eavesdropper;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'To kill her, I say, would be highly improper<br /></span> +<span class="i1">'Unless she objects. To do as directs<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'The master (c'est moi!). Now mark what I say next!<br /></span> +<span class="i1">'Let's make her a mason, And put a good face on<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'The matter, believing she'll prove not a base one;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'I'll take on myself—ending doubt and confusion—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'To write to Great Queen Street and get absolution!'<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Then upspake the stoker—A regular croaker,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'I'd like to know how you'll get over the poker!'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Long ago,' said my lord—-the precise <i>annus mundi</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0">'I can't call to mind—<i>regno Coli Jucundi</i>,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">('A monarch whose province was Pipo-cum-Fiddlum—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'A part of the region of Great Tarrididdlom)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Sundry by-laws were pass'd for emergencies various<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Whereby the submission to brand is vicarious:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">'Will some volunteer (<i>Her</i> substitute here)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Submit to the crucial test? 'Tis severe!'<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Dick on now spake, 'E'en to the stake<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'I'll go, like a martyr, as proxy to take<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'All over again for the dear lady's sake;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'That is (here he tenderly glanced), she approving?'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'I do!' said the maiden, in accent quite loving.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Agreed!' shouted all who'd been punch'd, 'Be it so!'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Glad, no doubt, of the chance to give Dick <i>quid pro quo</i>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The lady withdrew, in well-guarded condition;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The deck's quickly clear'd for the second edition<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of flicks and of kicks, Pinching and licks,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Twingeing and singeing—but murmur of Dick's<br /></span> +<span class="i0">None heard e'en a word; he was truly heroic,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And went through it all with a smile, like a stoic;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And when he—so rumpled from processes recent—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Retired to make himself decently decent,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Miss St. Ledger return'd—resolution her face on—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Took the oaths, and was enter'd a 'Prenticed Freemason!<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4>Moral.</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When you meet with a mason, just mention this lass;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I warrant she'll prove an excuse for a glass!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If he's a true brother, the toast is a favourite,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He's good for a bottle, but mind <i>you</i> don't pay for it!<br /></span> +<span class="i1">You've but to edge her Name in, and pledge her,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Lady Freemason—<span class="smcap">Miss Betty St. Ledger</span>!<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="blockquot">(<i>By permission of the Author.</i>)</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 80%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="WHAT_HAPPENED_LAST_NIGHT" id="WHAT_HAPPENED_LAST_NIGHT"></a>WHAT HAPPENED LAST NIGHT!</h2> + +<h3><i>From the French of M. Charles Monselet, by</i><br /> +<span class="smcap">F. B. Harrison</span>.</h3> + +<p>I cannot deceive myself—I was horribly tipsy last night. +Let him who has never been in the like case throw the first +empty bottle at me!</p> + +<p>How did it happen? In this way. I, a civilian, reading law, +was invited to dine at the garrison mess. I had never been at +a similar entertainment, and I cannot but think, now that I look +back on it, that the officers played some trick on me. I only +knew that they were prodigiously polite, which always looks +suspicious. From a certain point, from the third course, I +remember very little; a sort of cloudy curtain intercepts the +view like the curtains that come down in a pantomime, and I +don't know whether I was Clown, or Pantaloon, or Columbine.</p> + +<p>Yet something must have happened to me, a great many +things. I've been sleeping in my white tie; and then my face! +What a shockingly yellow, dissipated face! Upon my word, it +is a pretty affair! At my time, one-and-twenty, to be overcome +by wine like a schoolboy out for a holiday!</p> + +<p>I cannot express what I think of it.</p> + +<p>How am I to know what happened last night? Ask my +landlady? No; I cannot let her see how ashamed I am. +Besides, she would only know the condition in which I came +home; and that I can guess.</p> + +<p>They say that from a single bone Professor Owen can reconstruct +an entire antediluvian animal; I must try and do something +similar to reconstruct my existence during the last twelve +or fourteen hours. I must get hold of two or three clues.</p> + +<p>Where can I find them?</p> + +<p>In my pockets, perhaps.</p> + +<p>Since I was a small boy I have always had the habit of +stuffing them with all manner of things. Now, this is the time +for me to search them.</p> + +<p>I tremble. What shall I find?<br /> +<span class='pdir'>[<i>Searches his waistcoat pocket.</i></span><br /></p> + + +<p>I have gently insinuated two fingers into my waistcoat-pocket, +and have brought out my purse. Empty! Hang it!<br /> +<span class='pdir'>[<i>Lifts his overcoat from the floor.</i></span><br /></p> + + +<p>On picking up my overcoat I have found my pocket-book, +half open, and the papers fallen from it on the carpet.</p> + +<p>The first of these papers which catches my eye is the <i>carte</i> of +last night's dinner. Well, who was there? How many of us? +Several of the fellows I knew, of course; but which of them? +Happy thought! The <i>menu</i> will remind me of their various +tastes and reveal their names to me.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span></p> + +<p>'Oysters.' Well, I know that the Colonel is a tremendous +hand at oysters, so I am sure he was there.</p> + +<p>'Mulligatawny.' That is Captain Simpkin's soup, or rather +liquid fire, so Simpkins was there. Two of them.</p> + +<p>'Roast Beef.' Makes me think of little Dumerque, the +Jersey man, who wants to be a thorough Englishman. He was +there.</p> + +<p>'Saddle of Mutton.' Tom Horsley, the inveterate steeple-chaser.</p> + +<p>'Charlotte Russe.' That is Ned Walker, who published his +travels from "Peterborough to Petersburg." Now I know +pretty well who some of my fellow-guests were. As for the +others——<br /> +<span class='pdir'>[<i>Picks up some photographs.</i></span><br /></p> + +<p>Hallo! were there women at the mess? No, certainly not. +Then we must have talked of women, and the men must have +given me photographs of their female relatives. Strange thing +to do! especially as I don't know the ladies. Here's an ancient +and fish-like personage in a blue jersey. Dumerque's grandmother, +I'll be bound. Here a stout, middle-aged dame, widow +probably. I know Simpkins wants to marry a widow, but why +give me her portrait?</p> + +<p>And this—this is charming! Quite in the modern style—low +forehead, small nose, tiny mouth, all eyes, and what +splendid eyes! and such lashes! She is fair, as well as one +can judge from a photograph. And the little curls on her forehead +are like rings of gold. And so young, a mere child. A +lovely figure; our forefathers would have compared her to a +rose-tree, but then our forefathers were not strong in similes. +She has neither ear-rings nor necklace; perhaps that gives her +that look of disdain. Disdain! she knows nothing yet of life, +but tries to seem tired of it. They are all like that.</p> + +<p>Who is she? She must be the Colonel's daughter; I've +heard that his daughter is a pretty girl. I must have expressed +my warm admiration of the photograph, and he must have +responded by giving it to me. Did I ask him for her hand? +Did he refuse it? or did he put off his reply? Perhaps that +was why I drank too much.</p> + +<p>Now let me proceed. What further happened? Let me +continue my researches.<br /> +<span class='pdir'>[<i>Tries the pockets of his overcoat.</i></span><br /></p> + +<p>By Jingo! Two visiting cards! The first says:</p> + +<p class="center"> +"Captain Wellington Spearman,<br /> + <span class="smcap">First Royal Lancer Dragoons</span>."<br /> +</p> + +<p>The other:</p> + +<p class="center"> +"Major Garnet Babelock Cannon,<br /> + <span class="smcap">Rifle Artillery</span>."</p> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span></p> + +<p>Now, what does it all mean? I do not know those military +gentlemen. They must have been guests like myself. How +do I come to have their cards? There must have been some +dispute, some quarrel, some row. These two cards must have +been given in exchange for two of mine.</p> + +<p>It all comes back to me!</p> + +<p>A duel—perhaps two duels!</p> + +<p>But duels about what? Whom did I affront? I know I'm +an awful fire-eater when I've drank too much. But was I the +challenger or the challenged? I think my left cheek is rather +swollen as if from a blow; but that is mere fancy. What +dreadful follies have I got myself into?</p> + +<p>I can make out some pencil marks on the first card, that of +the Captain in the Lancer Dragoons. Yes. "Ten o'clock, +behind St. Martin's Church."</p> + +<p>Ah, a hostile meeting, that is clear. I must run, perhaps I +shall be in time.</p> + +<p>No, too late; it is half-past eleven.</p> + +<p>I am dishonoured, branded as a coward! No one will believe +me when I say that I had a headache, and overslept myself on +the morning of a duel.</p> + +<p>I have no energy to look further in my pocket. Still, one +never knows——<br /> +<span class='pdir'>[<i>Brings out a handkerchief.</i></span><br /></p> + +<p>A handkerchief—a very fine one—thin cambric. But it is +not one of mine. There is a coronet in the corner. How did I +come by this handkerchief? Could I have stolen it? I seem +to be on the road to the county gaol.</p> + +<p>Oh, how my head aches!</p> + +<p>A flower is in my button-hole. How did it come there? +Forget-me-nots; their blue eyes closed, all withered and drooping. +I could not have bought so humble a bouquet at the +flower-shop; it must have been given me. It was given me, it +came to me from the fair one with golden curls. Her father +gave it to me from her, knowing that I was about to risk my life—to +risk my life for her sake, no doubt.</p> + +<p>Yes, that is it. My fears increase. I dread to know more. +I am afraid to prosecute my researches in my pockets. I may +find my hands full of forget-me-nots—or of blood!</p> + +<p>Oh! ah! by jove!</p> + +<p>What now?</p> + +<p>This overcoat is not mine. No, mine is dark grey, this is +light grey. I have not travelled through my pockets, but +through the pockets of somebody else.</p> + +<p>But then—if the coat is not mine, neither is the duel.</p> + +<p>Not mine the <i>carte</i>.</p> + +<p>Not mine the photographs.</p> + +<p>Not mine the forget-me-nots.</p> + +<p>Not mine the cards.</p> + +<p>I have not stolen the handkerchief.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span></p> + +<p>I am all right; thank goodness I am all right!</p> + +<p>And my romance about the Colonel's lovely daughter—I am +sorry about it, upon my word. At least, I am sorry for her, +for I fear now she will never make my acquaintance.</p> + +<p class="blockquot">(<i>By permission of</i> <span class="smcap">Messrs. R. Bentley & Son</span>.)</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 80%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_FATAL_LEGS" id="THE_FATAL_LEGS"></a>THE FATAL LEGS.</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">Walter Browne.</span></h3> + +<p>I am an actor, or rather, I call myself one. I am, however, +"disengaged;" the more so since Widow Walker has——. But let me not +anticipate; which, by-the-bye, I never could have done—no matter. I +took apartments, comfortably furnished, with a widow lady named Walker. +I was "first floor back"; and "first floor front" was Mr. Simon Simpkin, +of the —— Theatre. The widow always called us "first floors," either +"back" or "front," and never by our names, although we never called her +out of hers. If we had, she would not have come. She was an obstinate +woman, but at times she got confused. She always called me in the +morning, and once she called me "front," and then went to Simpkin with +my shaving water. When I called her back, she called me something else, +and threw the pitcher at me. I was in hot water for a while.</p> + +<p>The Widow Walker was fair, fat, and forty—that is, rather fair, +extremely fat, and very forty. She might be more; at any rate her voice +was forte too. The actor, Simpkin, was fragile and long. He played heavy +parts, which possibly was the cause of his constant complaint that he +had not got his share of "fat." Although lengthy, he was even less in +his various diameters than I was, still I longed for his length. And +why? The Widow Walker wallowed in wealth untold, and I could see she +smiled upon the suit of Simon Simpkin. Well she might. It was +second-hand. He, too, was a widower, or rather, he would have been if +his wife had lived. I mean, if she had lived to be his wife. But she +didn't. She died before the fatal knot was tied; in fact, it was not +tied at all. No matter, he had loved before, while my suit was brand +new. I determined to try it on. I longed to win the widow for my wife—I +should say for myself. One day I saw the actor kiss her through the +keyhole. We were rivals from that moment—at least I was.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span> He didn't see +me, or he would have been one too; I mean one also. That is to say there +would have been two of us, whereas there was only one of me—no matter.</p> + +<p>The widow went a good deal to the theatre. She ordered him, and he gave +her orders—that is, "passes for two." He knew her size. She always took +"twos" in seats. He did the villains at the theatre, while I did the +hero at home. He bellowed in blank verse, while I blew the kitchen fire +with the bellows. He mashed her, while I mashed the potatoes for supper. +But I determined to beard the clean-shaved lion in his lair. In short, +or rather, at length, I obtained an engagement, and became an actor. My +rival and myself now stood on the same footing. I mean we should have +done, only, in a word, we didn't. Simon Simpkin, as before observed, +indeed observed anyhow, was slender as a willow wand, and appropriately +pliable, especially about the legs. Still, on the stage, his nether +limbs looked round and well proportioned. His calves might pass for +cows, and his knees were second elbows, or rather, "Elba's"—they held a +bony part in exile.</p> + +<p>On the other hand—I should say legs—my tights were always loose, and +while the widow smiled on his understanding, she smiled <i>at</i> mine. I +thirsted for my hated rival's blood, or rather for his flesh, more +correctly speaking, for the shape of his legs—technically, for his +"leg-shapes." Having failed in an attempt to have his blood by means of +a darning-needle, I determined to go for his shapes. I went for them one +night before the performance. I went to his dressing-room and got them. +That night the Widow Walker was in front. I was desperate. I was +determined that she should see her Simpkin in all his naked—I should +say his unpadded—deformity, and that mine—that is, my limbs—should be +resplendent in his borrowed plumes. But alas, all my plans—and +myself—were violently overthrown—by Simpkin.</p> + +<p>I had merely insinuated one leg in the woolly pads, when he insinuated +another somewhere else. We argued the matter all over my dressing-room. +Meanwhile, time jogged merrily along. The curtain was raised, and so +were we eventually; but unfortunately I had only retained one half of +those precious pads. The right was left on my leg, but Simpkin had +carried off the left leg all right! What was I to do? My left leg would +not look right, or if it did, my right would be wrong. There was no +time, however, for consideration, as my face required sponging before +applying the sticking-plaster, and eventually I had to hobble on to the +stage with two odd understandings—that is, one odd one and one even +one. Even that was odd, which appears odd—no matter.</p> + +<p>Fortunately I went on from the O.P. side, which enabled me to put my +best leg foremost. In the centre of the stage I met Simpkin, who had +entered from the prompt side. The widow<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span> gazed with rapture on us both, +until, oh, horror! after a short scene it was necessary that each of us +should retire to the place from whence we came. We advanced towards it, +backwards, and mutually stumbling, our other legs became exposed to +view. A yell from the audience, the sack from the management, and a +week's notice from the widow, subsequently greeted us. Besides which, +Simpkin and myself are not on the best of terms. We get into argument +when we meet in the streets. I stay at home a good deal now.</p> + +<p class="blockquot">(<i>By permission of the Author.</i>)</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 80%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_CALIPHS_JESTER" id="THE_CALIPHS_JESTER"></a>THE CALIPH'S JESTER.</h2> + +<h4>(FROM THE ARABIC.)</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">On a <i>musnud</i> of state was reclining the Caliph, the Mighty Haroun;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His brow like the sun it was shining, his face it was like the full moon,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And his courtiers around him were standing, like stars in an indigo sky,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the <i>saki</i> the wine-cup was handing—for the monarch, though pious, was dry.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And the poets their works were reciting in Arabic numbers divine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The hearts of all hearers delighting with verses like Afdhal's or mine.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then the Caliph glared round the assembly, as a lion glares round on the herd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the knees of the courtiers grew trembly, and their hearts fluttered e'en as a bird;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And cold drops were distilled from each forehead, and each tongue to its palate did cling,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For their fear of their Caliph was horrid—he was such a passionate king!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">At length in a voice that with passion was shaking, it pleased him to speak:—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Does he know whom he treats in this fashion? Did you e'er behold aught like his cheek?<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span></div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"This poet, this jester, this chaffer, this pig's son, this bullock, this ass,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This black-hearted, black-visaged Kaffir, this Infidel, <span class="smcap">Abu Nuwas</span>!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I bade him come hither to meet us, in this serious Council of State;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And this is the way he dares treat us. Ye dogs, he is five minutes late!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then the heart of his Highness relented; Rashid was of changeable mood;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Maybe he's been somehow prevented; to get in a rage does no good.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"His jests, too, are always so pleasant, one somehow his impudence stands;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Besides, poor Mesrour just at present has plenty of work on his hands.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"But although I can't perfectly tame him till he goes to the Nita to school,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At least I can thoroughly shame him, and make him appear like a fool.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Slaves, fetch me some eggs—not new laid—you can find some stale ones that will do.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now execute quick what I bade you, or else I will execute <i>you</i>."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">They brought him the eggs in a charger, all studded with many a pearl,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The same pattern—though just a bit larger—as that of Herodias' girl;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And the Caliph took one egg, and hid it away in his cushion, which done,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He bade them all do so. They did it; and sat down awaiting the fun.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">With an air that was saucy and braggish, with a step that was jaunty and spruce,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With a smile that was merry and waggish, with a mien that was reckless and loose,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">With a "How is your high disposition to-morrow, if God should so will?"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With a "Here in our ancient position, your Majesty seeth us still!"<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span></div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">With a face all be-chalked and be-painted, with a bound through the portal doth pass<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One with whom we're already acquainted, the world-renowned Abu Nuwas!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Right welcome! Right welcome! my brother!" his Majesty smilingly spake,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"We were just now in want of another, a nice game at forfeits to make.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Whatever I do you must watch it, and each do precisely the same—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If I catch you chaps laughing you'll catch it! sit still and attend to the game.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"If you do just as I do, precisely, a <i>dînâr</i> apiece shall ye gain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If you don't, won't I give it you nicely—Mesrour you stand by with the cane!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He spake: and the smile on his features was mischievous, cunning and grim,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the courtiers, poor awe-stricken creatures, smiled feebly and gazed upon him.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Cluck, cluck, cluck aroo!" representing the note of a jubilant hen,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Caliph arises, presenting an egg, to the sight of all men.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Cluck, cluck, cluck aroo!" and the rabble are all at once up on their legs,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And with ornithological gabble display their mysterious eggs.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then without in the least hesitating steps Abu Nuwas before all.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Cock-a-doodle doo doo!" imitating a rooster's hilarious call.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Now I know why it is that you cackle," said he, "when you're trying to talk!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And you find me a hard one to tackle, because I am <span class="smcap">Cock of the Walk</span>!"<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="blockquot">(<i>From</i> "<span class="smcap">Temple Bar</span>," <i>by permission of the Editor</i>.)</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 80%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="A_JOURNEY_IN_SEARCH_OF_NOTHING" id="A_JOURNEY_IN_SEARCH_OF_NOTHING"></a>A JOURNEY IN SEARCH OF NOTHING.</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">Wilkie Collins.</span></h3> + +<p>"Yes," said the doctor, pressing the tips of his fingers with +a tremulous firmness on my pulse, and looking straight forward +into the pupils of my eyes, "yes, I see: the symptoms all point +unmistakeably towards one conclusion—Brain. My dear sir, +you have been working too hard; you have been following the +dangerous example of the rest of the world in this age of business +and bustle. Your brain is over-taxed—that is your complaint. +You must let it rest—there is your remedy."</p> + +<p>"You mean," I said, "that I must keep quiet, and do +Nothing?"</p> + +<p>"Precisely so," replied the doctor. "You must not read or +write; you must abstain from allowing yourself to be excited +by society; you must have no annoyances; you must feel no +anxieties; you must not think; you must be neither elated nor +depressed; you must keep early hours and take an occasional +tonic, with moderate exercise, and a nourishing but not too full +a diet—above all, a perfect repose is essential to your restoration, +you must go away into the country, taking any direction +you please, and living just as you like, as long as you are quiet +and as long as you do Nothing."</p> + +<p>"I presume he is not to go away into the country without +<small>ME</small>," said my wife, who was present at the interview.</p> + +<p>"Certainly not," rejoined the doctor, with an acquiescent +bow. "I look to your influence, my dear madam, to encourage +our patient in following my directions. It is unnecessary to +repeat them, they are so extremely simple and easy to carry +out. I will answer for your husband's recovery if he will but +remember that he has now only two objects in life—to keep +quiet, and to do Nothing."</p> + +<p>My wife is a woman of business habits. As soon as the +doctor had taken his leave, she produced her pocket-book, and +made a brief abstract of his directions for our future guidance. +I looked over her shoulder and observed that the entry ran +thus:—</p> + +<div class="pblockquot"> +<p>"<span class="smcap">Rules for dear William's Restoration To Health.</span>—No +reading; no writing; no excitement; no annoyance; no +anxiety; no thinking. Tonic. No elation of spirits. Nice +dinners. No depression of spirits. Dear William to take +little walks (with me). To go to bed early. To get up early. +<i>N.B.</i>—Keep him quiet. <i>Mem.</i> Mind he does Nothing."</p> +</div> + +<p>Mind I do nothing? No need to mind that. I have not had +a holiday since I was a boy. Oh, blessed Idleness, after the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span> +years of merciless industry that have separated us, are you and +I to be brought together again at last? Oh, my weary right +hand, are you really to ache no longer with driving the ceaseless +pen? May I, indeed, put you in my pocket and let you +rest there, indolently, for hours together? Yes! for I am now, +at last, to begin—doing Nothing. Delightful task that performs +itself! Welcome responsibility that carries its weight away +smoothly on its own shoulders!</p> + +<p>These thoughts shine in pleasantly on my mind after the +doctor has taken his departure, and diffuse an easy gaiety over +my spirits when my wife and I set forth, the next day, for the +journey. We are not going the round of the noisy watering-places, +nor is it our intention to accept any invitations to join +the circles assembled by festive country friends. My wife, +guided solely by the abstract of the doctor's directions in her +pocket-book, has decided that the only way to keep me absolutely +quiet, and to make sure of my doing nothing, is to take +me to some pretty, retired village, and to put me up at a little +primitive, unsophisticated country inn. I offer no objection to +this project—not because I have no will of my own, and am not +master of all my movements—but only because I happen to +agree with my wife. Considering what a very independent +man I am naturally, it has sometimes struck me, as a rather +remarkable circumstance, that I always do agree with her.</p> + +<p>We find the pretty, retired village. A charming place, full of thatched +cottages, with creepers at the doors, like the first easy lessons in +drawing-masters' copy-books. We find the unsophisticated inn—just the +sort of house that the novelists are so fond of writing about, with the +snowy curtains, and the sheets perfumed by lavender, and the matronly +landlady, and the amusing signpost.</p> + +<p>This Elysium is called the Nag's Head.</p> + +<p>Can the Nag's Head accommodate us? Yes, with a delightful bedroom, and a +sweet parlour. My wife takes off her bonnet, and makes herself at home +directly. She nods her head at me with a look of triumph. "Yes, dear, on +this occasion also I quite agree with you. Here we have found perfect +quiet; here we may make sure of obeying the doctor's orders; here we +have at last discovered—Nothing."</p> + +<p>Nothing! Did I say Nothing? We arrive at the Nag's Head late in the +evening, have our tea, go to bed tired with our journey, sleep +delightfully till about three o'clock in the morning, and, at that hour, +begin to discover that there are actually noises, even in this remote +country seclusion. They keep fowls at the Nag's Head; and at three +o'clock, the cock begins to crow, and the hen to cluck, under our +window. Pastoral, my dear, and suggestive of eggs for breakfast whose +reputation is above suspicion; but I wish these cheerful fowls did not +wake quite so early. Are there, likewise, dogs, love, at the Nag's<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span> +Head, and are they trying to bark down the crowing and clucking of the +cheerful fowls? I should wish to guard myself against the possibility of +making a mistake, but I think I hear three dogs. A shrill dog, who barks +rapidly; a melancholy dog, who howls monotonously; and a hoarse dog, who +emits barks at intervals, like minute guns. Is this going on long? +Apparently it is. My dear, if you will refer to your pocket-book, I +think you will find that the doctor recommended early hours. We will not +be fretful and complain of having our morning sleep disturbed; we will +be contented, and will only say that it is time to get up.</p> + +<p>Breakfast. Delicious meal, let us linger over it as long as we can,—let +us linger, if possible, till the drowsy mid-day tranquillity begins to +sink over this secluded village.</p> + +<p>Strange! but now I think of it again, do I, or do I not, hear an +incessant hammering over the way? No manufacture is being carried on in +this peaceful place, no new houses are being built; and yet, there is +such a hammering, that, if I shut my eyes, I can almost fancy myself in +the neighbourhood of a dock-yard. Waggons, too. Why does a waggon which +makes so little noise in London, make so much noise here? Is the dust on +the road detonating powder, that goes off with a report at every turn of +the heavy wheels? Does the waggoner crack his whip or fire a pistol to +encourage his horses? Children, next. Only five of them, and they have +not been able to settle for the last half-hour what game they shall play +at. On two points alone do they appear to be unanimous—they are all +agreed on making a noise, and on stopping to make it under our window. I +think I am in some danger of forgetting one of the doctor's directions; +I rather fancy I am actually allowing myself to be annoyed.</p> + +<p>Let us take a turn in the garden, at the back of the house. Dogs again. +The yard is on one side of the garden. Every time our walk takes us near +it, the shrill dog barks, and the hoarse dog growls. The doctor tells me +to have no anxieties. I am suffering devouring anxieties. These dogs may +break loose and fly at us, for anything I know to the contrary, at a +moment's notice. What shall I do? Give myself a drop of tonic? or escape +for a few hours from the perpetual noises of this retired spot, by +taking a drive? My wife says, take a drive. I think I have already +mentioned that I invariably agree with my wife.</p> + +<p>The drive is successful in procuring us a little quiet. My directions to +the coachman are to take us where he pleases, so long as he keeps away +from secluded villages. We suffer much jolting in by-lanes, and +encounter a great variety of bad smells. But a bad smell is a noiseless +nuisance, and I am ready to put up with it patiently. Towards dinner +time we return to our inn. Meat, vegetables, pudding, all excellent, +clean and perfectly<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span> cooked. As good a dinner as ever I wish to +eat;—shall I get a little nap after it? The fowls, the dogs, the +hammer, the children, the waggons, are quiet at last. Is there anything +else left to make a noise? Yes: there is the working population of the +place.</p> + +<p>It is getting on towards evening, and the sons of labour are assembling +on the benches placed outside the inn, to drink. What a delightful scene +they would make of this homely everyday event on the stage! How the +simple creatures would clink their tin mugs, and drink each other's +healths, and laugh joyously in chorus! How the peasant maidens would +come tripping on the scene and lure the men tenderly to the dance! Where +are the pipe and tabour that I have seen in so many pictures; where the +simple songs that I have read about in so many poems? What do I hear as +I listen, prone on the sofa, to the evening gathering of the rustic +throng? Oaths,—nothing, on my word of honour, but oaths! I look out, +and see gangs of cadaverous savages drinking gloomily from brown mugs, +and swearing at each other every time they open their lips. Never in any +large town, at home or abroad, have I been exposed to such an incessant +fire of unprintable words, as now assail my ears in this primitive +village. No man can drink to another without swearing at him first. No +man can ask a question without adding a mark of interrogation at the end +in the shape of an oath. Whether they quarrel (which they do for the +most part), or whether they agree; whether they talk of their troubles +in this place, or their good luck in that; whether they are telling a +story, or proposing a toast, or giving an order, or finding fault with +the beer, these men seem to be positively incapable of speaking without +an allowance of at least five foul words for every one fair word that +issues from their lips. English is reduced in their mouths to a brief +vocabulary of all the vilest expressions in the language. This is an age +of civilisation; this is a Christian country; opposite me I see a +building with a spire, which is called, I believe, a church; past my +window, not an hour since, there rattled a neat pony chaise with a +gentleman inside clad in glossy black broad cloth, and popularly known +by the style and title of clergyman. And yet, under all these good +influences, here sit twenty or thirty men whose ordinary table-talk is +so outrageously beastly and blasphemous, that not a single sentence of +it, though it lasted the whole evening, could be printed as a specimen +for public inspection, in these pages. When the intelligent foreigner +comes to England, and when I tell him (as I am sure to do) that we are +the most moral people in the universe, I will take good care that he +does not set his foot in a secluded British village when the rural +population is reposing over its mug of small beer after the labours of +the day.</p> + +<p>I am not a squeamish person, neither is my wife, but the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span> social +intercourse of the villagers drives us out of our room, and sends us to +take refuge at the back of the house. Do we gain anything by the change? +None whatever.</p> + +<p>The back parlour to which we have now retreated, looks out on a +bowling-green; and there are more benches, more mugs of beer, more +foul-mouthed villagers on the bowling-green. Immediately under our +window is a bench and table for two, and on it are seated a drunken old +man and a drunken old woman. The aged sot in trousers is offering +marriage to the aged sot in petticoats with frightful oaths of +endearment. Never before did I imagine that swearing could be twisted to +the purposes of courtship. Never before did I suppose that a man could +make an offer of his hand by bellowing imprecations on his eyes, or that +all the powers of the infernal regions could be appropriately summoned +to bear witness to the beating of a lover's heart under the influence of +the tender passion. I know it now, and I derive little satisfaction +from gaining the knowledge of it. The ostler is lounging about the +bowling-green, scratching his bare brawny arms and yawning grimly in the +mellow evening sunlight. I beckon to him, and ask him at what time the +tap closes? He tells me at eleven o'clock. It is hardly necessary to say +that we put off going to bed until that time, when we retire for the +night, drenched from head to foot, if I may so speak, in floods of bad +language.</p> + +<p>I cautiously put my head out of window, and see that the lights of the +tap-room are really extinguished at the appointed time. I hear the +drinkers oozing out grossly into the pure freshness of the summer night. +They all growl together; they all go together. All?</p> + +<p>Sinner and sufferer that I am, I have been premature in arriving at that +happy conclusion! Six choice spirits, with a social horror in their +souls of going home to bed, prop themselves against the wall of the inn, +and continue the evening's conversazione in the darkness. I hear them +cursing at each other by name. We have Tom, Dick, and Sam, Jem, Bill, +and Bob, to enliven us under our window after we are in bed. They begin +improving each other's minds, as a matter of course, by quarrelling. +Music follows, and soothes the strife, in the shape of a local duet, +sung by voices of vast compass, which soar in one note from howling bass +to cracked treble. Yawning follows the duet; long, loud, weary yawning +of all the company in chorus. This amusement over, Tom asks Dick for +"backer," and Dick denies that he has got any, and Tom tells him he +lies, and Sam strikes in and says, "No, he doan't," and Jem tells Sam he +lies, and Bill tells him that if he was Sam he would punch Jem's head, +and Bob, apparently snuffing the battle afar off, and not liking the +scent of it, shouts suddenly a pacific "good night" in the distance. The +farewell salutation seems to quiet the gathering storm. They all roar +responsive to the good night of Bob.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span> Next, a song in chorus from Bob's +five friends. Outraged by this time beyond all endurance, I spring out +of bed and seize the water-jug. I pause before I empty the water on the +heads of the assembly beneath; I pause, and hear—O! most melodious, +most welcome of sounds!—the sudden fall of rain. The merciful sky has +anticipated me; the "clerk of the weather" has been struck by my idea of +dispersing the Nag's Head Night Club by water. By the time I have put +down the jug and got back to bed, silence—primeval silence, the first, +the foremost of all earthly influences—falls sweetly over our tavern at +last.</p> + +<p>That night, before sinking wearily to rest, I have once more the +satisfaction of agreeing with my wife. Dear and admirable woman! she +proposes to leave this secluded village the first thing to-morrow +morning. Never did I share her opinion more cordially than I share it +now. Instead of keeping myself composed, I have been living in a region +of perpetual disturbance; and, as for doing nothing, my mind has been so +agitated and perturbed that I have not even had time to think about it. +We will go, love—as you so sensibly suggest—we will go the first thing +in the morning to any place you like, so long as it is large enough to +swallow up small sounds. Where, over all the surface of this noisy +earth, the blessing of tranquility may be found, I know not; but this I +do know: a secluded English village is the very last place towards which +any man should think of turning his steps, if the main object of his +walk through life is to discover quiet.</p> + +<p class="blockquot">(<i>By permission of the Author.</i>)</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 80%;" /> +<h2><a name="GEMINI_AND_VIRGO" id="GEMINI_AND_VIRGO"></a>GEMINI AND VIRGO.</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">C. S. Calverley.</span></h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Some vast amount of years ago,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Ere all my youth had vanish'd from me,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A boy it was my lot to know,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Whom his familiar friends called Tommy.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I love to gaze upon a child;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">A young bud bursting into blossom;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Artless, as Eve yet unbeguiled,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And agile as a young opossum:<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span></div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And such was he. A calm-brow'd lad,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Yet mad, at moments, as a hatter:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Why hatters as a race are mad<br /></span> +<span class="i1">I never knew, nor does it matter.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He was what nurses call a "limb;"<br /></span> +<span class="i1">One of those small misguided creatures<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who, tho' their intellects are dim,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Are one too many for their teachers:<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And, if you asked of him to say<br /></span> +<span class="i1">What twice 10 was, or 3 times 7,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He'd glance (in quite a placid way)<br /></span> +<span class="i1">From heaven to earth, from earth to heaven;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And smile, and look politely round,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">To catch a casual suggestion;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But make no effort to propound<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Any solution of the question.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And not so much esteemed was he<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of the authorities: and therefore<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He fraternized by chance with me,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Needing a somebody to care for:<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And three fair summers did we twain<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Live (as they say) and love together;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And bore by turns the wholesome cane<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Till our young skins became as leather:<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And carved our names on every desk,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And tore our clothes, and inked our collars;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And looked unique and picturesque,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">But not, it may be, model scholars.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">We did much as we chose to do;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">We'd never heard of Mrs. Grundy;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All the theology we knew<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Was that we mighn't play on Sunday;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And all the general truths, that cakes<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Were to be bought at half a penny,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And that excruciating aches<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Resulted if we ate too many:<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And seeing ignorance is bliss,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And wisdom consequently folly,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The obvious result is this—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">That our two lives were very jolly.<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span></div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">At last the separation came,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Real love, at that time, was the fashion;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And by a horrid chance, the same<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Young thing was, to us both, a passion.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Old Poser snorted like a horse:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">His feet were large, his hands were pimply,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His manner, when excited, coarse:—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">But Miss P. was an angel simply.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She was a blushing, gushing thing;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">All—more than all—my fancy painted;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Once—when she helped me to a wing<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of goose—I thought I should have fainted.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The people said that she was blue:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">But I was green, and loved her dearly.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She was approaching thirty-two;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And I was then eleven, nearly.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I did not love as others do;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">(None ever did that I've heard tell of);<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My passion was a byword through<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The town she was, of course, the belle of:<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Oh sweet—as to the toilworn man<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The far-off sound of rippling river;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As to cadets in Hindostan<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The fleeting remnant of their liver—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">To me was <span class="smcap">Anna</span>; dear as gold<br /></span> +<span class="i1">That fills the miser's sunless coffers;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As to the spinster, growing old,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The thought—the dream—that she had offers.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I'd sent her little gifts of fruit;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">I'd written lines to her as Venus;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I'd sworn unflinchingly to shoot<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The man who dared to come between us:<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And it was you, my Thomas you,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The friend in whom my soul confided,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who dared to gaze on—to do,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">I may say, much the same as I did.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">One night I saw him squeeze her hand;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">There was no doubt about the matter;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I said he must resign, or stand<br /></span> +<span class="i1">My vengeance—and he chose the latter.<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span></div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">We met, we "planted" blows on blows:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">We fought as long as we were able:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My rival had a bottle-nose,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And both my speaking eyes were sable.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When the school-bell cut short our strife,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Miss P. gave both of us a plaister;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And in a week became the wife<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of Horace Nibbs, the writing-master.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<hr style='width: 25%;' /> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I loved her then—I'd love her still,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Only one must not love Another's:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But thou and I, my Tommy, will,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">When we again meet, meet as brothers.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">It may be that in age one seeks<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Peace only: that the blood is brisker<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In boys' veins, than in theirs whose cheeks<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Are partially obscured by whisker;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Or that the growing ages steal<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The memories of past wrongs from us.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But this is certain—that I feel<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Most friendly unto thee, oh Thomas!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And whereso'er we meet again,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">On this or that side the equator,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If I've not turned teetotaller then,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And have wherewith to pay the waiter,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">To thee I'll drain the modest cup,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Ignite with thee the mild Havannah;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And we will waft, while liquoring up,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Forgiveness to the heartless <span class="smcap">Anna</span>.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="blockquot">(<i>By permission of</i> <span class="smcap">Mrs. Calverley</span>.)</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 80%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="KING_BIBBS" id="KING_BIBBS"></a>KING BIBBS.</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">James Albery.</span></h3> + +<p>"It's all through that Liberal Government."</p> + +<p>These were the words uttered by King Bibbs as he stood in +the rain without an umbrella; and it was not the first time he +had uttered them.</p> + +<p>Think of it! There stood King Bibbs in the rain without an +umbrella.</p> + +<p>Once upon a time King Bibbs had a beautiful palace; but +there came a Liberal Government, and they promised the nation +economy.</p> + +<p>Their policy was to save and censure, to cut down everything +they did pay for, and to cut up everything they did not.</p> + +<p>They contracted that every soldier in the army should have +one nail less in his boots, and they blamed the last Government +for not having soldiers who required no boots at all. They +arranged that the royal charwomen should clean the floors of +the Government offices with soap without sand or with sand +without soap; and they censured the late Government for +having floors that wanted any cleaning. They cut down the +amount and the quality of the cheese required for the royal +mousetraps, and they pointed out to a plundered people that the +last Government were entirely to blame for there being any +mice. They voted that the royal weather-cock on the national +stable should be re-gilt only once in six years, instead of once +in five, and they made it clear, at least to their own party, that +it was entirely owing to the tactics of the late Government that +weather-cocks were required at all; and it must be admitted +that upon this point the late Government were a little bit with +them.</p> + +<p>It was a <i>fine time</i>, and the nation that King Bibbs reigned +over might well feel proud.</p> + +<p>They did.</p> + +<p>But you know that if you keep the stove going by what you +can spare from your household furniture, the time will come +when you will be a little at a loss for firewood.</p> + +<p>What would you do? You cannot part with the comfortable +chair you sit in, and your friends must have their little places; +so very likely, if you had no respect for time-honoured things, +you would break up some grand old cabinet that your forefathers +loved, but that to you appeared useless, and so you'd +keep the stove going. And as long as the fire lasted, you and +your friends would be warm and snug in your places.</p> + +<p>That's just what our Government did—not ours, of course—but +the one I am talking of.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span></p> + +<p>They turned their eyes on the king's palace, and they said +the nation cannot be saddled with this expense.</p> + +<p>They had already saved the nation about a farthing per head +per annum, and this new sacrifice would save about an eighth as +much more. But you must understand that every man looked +at the amount saved in the lump; he never thought of the +farthing that was put in his pocket in return for the time he +wasted in attending public meetings, but had a vague idea that +the golden thousands talked of were in some remote way his +rescued property.</p> + +<p>What a splendid show of justice, wasn't it now, when bills +were plastered all over King Bibbs's palace, to say those +desirable premises would be sold by public auction on such a +date?</p> + +<p>It touched the people to the core; they gave up half a day to +flock round the palace, and read the bills; they lost another +half-day's work to see the palace sold; they spent a day's wages +to get drunk to celebrate this crowning stroke of economy, and +in their wild delight at the justice done them, they quite forgot +to bank the one-eighth of a farthing which the generous Government +had put into their pockets.</p> + +<p>How common it is to say, we go from bad to worse, and on +that principle I suppose it was that this Liberal Government +went from good to better.</p> + +<p>If it was good that the poor king should give up his palace +and live like a private gentleman, would it not be better that +he should go a grade lower, and live like a retired tradesman?</p> + +<p>The odd fact was, that the more they stripped poor King +Bibbs of the sacred paraphernalia that once adorned his life, the +more useless he appeared in the eyes of his subjects; and he +was cut down from a palace to a mansion, and from a mansion +to a villa; from having one hundred horses to ten; and from +ten to none. And so it was that King Bibbs came to be walking +in the rain without an umbrella; and so it was, as he reflected +on the past he exclaimed,—</p> + +<p>"It's all through that Liberal Government."</p> + +<p>His most gracious Majesty had been to the reading-rooms to +look at the morning papers, and see what his Government were +doing. It may seem wrong that he should thus waste a penny; +but remember, it was his duty to see how his people were getting +on. As he left the rooms there was a quiet, sad smile on the +king's face.</p> + +<p>"Ah," he muttered, "my prime minister is very clever, but +he is all ambition and vanity; he tries to sail the ship with +nothing but flags. I do wish he would take in the bunting and +put out some canvas, so that we might have a little real progress +instead of so much show."</p> + +<p>At this time he was just turning the corner of Daisy Road on +his way home, when suddenly it began to rain.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Bless me," said his Majesty, "it's going to pour, and I've +forgotten my umbrella, I shall have my crown quite spoilt. +Dear! dear! dear!"</p> + +<p>The rain fell faster, and the poor king had yet two miles to +go. His ermine was getting quite damp.</p> + +<p>"What am I to do?" he exclaimed. "I shall be wet through. +Dear! dear! I shall be obliged to take a cab."</p> + +<p>The king looked along the road, and saw one coming. "Hi! +hi!" shouted his most gracious Majesty, and he waved his +sceptre till it almost flew out of his hand.</p> + +<p>"Going home to change," said the cabman, with a careless air.</p> + +<p>"Don't you know I'm the king?" said poor Bibbs.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, you're know'd well enough," sneered the cabman; "give my love +to the old woman."</p> + +<p>"There, there!" said the poor monarch, appealing plaintively to the +empty street; "there, that comes of having a Liberal Government; as soon +as I get a change I'll be a despot."</p> + +<p>You see the true royal spirit in him was not quite crushed.</p> + +<p>The rain fell faster, and King Bibbs took off his crown and was looking +at the great wet spots on the red cotton velvet when a loud voice +exclaimed:—"Does your most gracious Majesty want a cab?"</p> + +<p>The king was about to enter the cab without a word, when a ragged boy +officiously stood by the wheel.</p> + +<p>"What do you want?" said the boy's sovereign.</p> + +<p>"To keep your most gracious Majesty's royal robe from touching the +wheel," said the boy.</p> + +<p>"I can do it myself," said the king, in quite an angry tone.</p> + +<p>Now in the ordinary way a monarch would look upon such an attention as +simply his due, but he knew this ragged young subject was looking for +patronage; he wanted a copper, and the king felt he could not afford it. +All who have studied the workings of the human heart know how we conceal +our motives even from ourselves. To look at King Bibbs you would have +thought he simply resented the boy's officiousness. He tried to persuade +himself so, but the underlying feeling was his annoyance at not having a +copper to spare. How he would have blushed if any of the Great Powers of +Europe could have seen him at that moment!</p> + +<p>"Go to the devil," said the king to his subject. "Go away! go away!"</p> + +<p>"Blow'd if I pay my income tax next week!" said the young traitor as he +made a very wicked face at the back of the cab.</p> + +<p>"That's a bad boy," muttered Bibbs, as the cab drove off.</p> + +<p>Now Bibbs, like many another proud spirit, had enjoyed the noble +pleasure of refusing, which is only felt when you have<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span> full power to +comply. When you are forced to refuse through weakness, it is very +galling to a monarch, or even to one of us.</p> + +<p>"A d—d bad boy!" he exclaimed, and as if the truth would out in spite +of him he muttered: "It's all thro' that Liberal Government."</p> + +<p>The house to which King Bibbs had directed the cabman to drive him, was +what is now called a villa. It was one of a row, and was certainly not +at all suggestive of a palace. Still it had a nice breakfast-parlour +underground, and a handsome little drawing-room, with folding doors, +upstairs. The rent was low, and the neighbourhood was considered, by +those who lived there, fashionable.</p> + +<p>At first poor Bibbs was treated with some respect, but after a time he +fell into contempt, for kings, like other people, must keep their +places.</p> + +<p>On arriving at his house the king stepped from the cab and took out his +purse. It would have done any Liberal Government good to see a +constitutional monarch like Bibbs rubbing the edges of certain light +coins to see if they were threepennies or fourpennies. But it would not +have done any one good to see the look on the cabman's face as he +received his fare. The king turned to go indoors.</p> + +<p>"Here, hi!" shouted the cabman.</p> + +<p>"What's the matter?" asked the king.</p> + +<p>"What's the matter? As if your most gracious Majesty did not know! I +want another sixpence."</p> + +<p>"You've got your fare," said the king.</p> + +<p>"Got my fare!" retorted the cabman; "you're a pretty gracious Majesty, +you are. You go about rolling in luxury and wealth out of the hard +earnings of sich as me, and that's the way you use the money. Bah! The +sooner you're done away with altogether the better. What good are you? +Why you ain't worth the crown on your head."</p> + +<p>The cabman drove away to swear, and the king paused to reflect. It took +the king some time to calculate, but he found he cost that cabman, at +his present rate of expenditure—he cost that cabman about an eighth of +a farthing every ten years.</p> + +<p>The king's lips moved, though he breathed no word; but any one who had +watched the kind mouth would have seen that he was muttering something +about that Liberal Government.</p> + +<p>He took out his latch-key and let himself in; he paused in the passage, +gently wiped his crown on the sleeve of his robe, and hung it on a +hat-peg, and, placing his sceptre in the stand beside his forgotten +umbrella—forgetfulness that had cost him a shilling—walked slowly into +the parlour.</p> + +<p>He sat down to meditate. You have only to read your Shakespeare to know +this is the way of kings. He soliloquised somewhat in this fashion:</p> + +<p>"It's quite clear the cheaper I get the more useless I appear.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span> While I +was surrounded with pomp, the people ran after and applauded me; now I +get abused by a low cabman. I was like a grand ruin: while the columns +stand, and the broken entablatures lie about in picturesque profusion, +it is visited, made pictures of, and admired. But take away the old +adornments, clear away the ground, and leave only a little pile of +useless earth to mark the spot, and Admiration and Wonder, as they turn +their backs on it, will soon find Respect at their heels—I see my +fate."</p> + +<p>The king grew reckless, and ordered an egg for his tea.</p> + +<p>You have only to read your poets, and you will see that these sudden +desperate acts foreshadow impending doom.</p> + +<p>At the moment that Bibbs was wiping a small spot of egg from his beard, +his ministers were holding a cabinet council to determine what should be +their next move to keep up their popularity.</p> + +<p>There was nothing to cut down but the places of themselves and their +friends and relations. That was out of the question. The labourer is +worthy of his hire, and they had laboured hard to get into their present +position.</p> + +<p>How would it be if they determined that the king should no longer +receive any help from the State, but earn his own living? A little hard +work would be good for the king's constitution.</p> + +<p>The idea was a popular one. It was carried out. But poor King Bibbs was +too old to work, so it occurred to one of the ministers, who knew a City +gentleman who had an ugly daughter that he wanted to marry to a person +of rank, that by his influence the poor king might be got into an +almshouse.</p> + +<p>After some difficulty it was done, and his most gracious Majesty found +himself in possession of two small rooms and ten shillings a week.</p> + +<p>Any reasonable old monarch, you would think, might have been very +comfortable under these circumstances, but wherever he turned he met +unfriendly glances. People said almshouses were meant for industrious +but unfortunate tradesmen and their wives, and not for bloated old +emperors and kings. Here was a monarch not only grinding them down with +taxation, but actually taking from them the just reward of virtuous old +age.</p> + +<p>At last it happened that a shopkeeper died insolvent, and his aged widow +was destitute. There was nothing for it but to put her on the parish, +which would be an expense, or get her into an almshouse.</p> + +<p>The matter touched the pockets of the parishioners, and you may be +pretty sure that soon a fine clamour was raised. What had the king done +to deserve charity? Nothing. Meetings were held, bundles of letters were +sent to the newspapers, and at last the influential City gentleman, who +meant to stand for<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span> the borough at the next election, was forced to turn +out King Bibbs or lose his popularity.</p> + +<p>The influential gentleman assured his most gracious Majesty that he +turned him out with great reluctance.</p> + +<p>What was to be done now? It was pretty clear that the king must go on +the parish. But what parish?</p> + +<p>It mattered not where he had lived, he had never paid his rates, and not +a parish would have him. Vestries met and discussed the matter. It was +referred to committees, minutes were brought up and referred back again; +meantime poor Bibbs, who would not go in as a casual, was left, like old +Lear, to perish.</p> + +<p>It is true that on the first night an old Chartist, who was once +imprisoned for treason, took pity on him, and gave him a bed, but when +the king found out who his benefactor was, his old pride arose within +him, and he turned away.</p> + +<p>His most gracious Majesty might have been seen feeling with his +thumb-nail the edge of his last coin. It was smooth; King Bibbs had but +threepence in the world.</p> + +<p>At this moment he saw some men with advertising boards on their backs. +He looked at them; they were old and feeble. Ah! thought the king, I +think I am strong enough to carry boards. He went up to one of the men, +and asked him most respectfully where he got his employment.</p> + +<p>The man turned round and sneered out,—</p> + +<p>"Oh, you want to rob <i>us</i> now, do you? You want to take the crust out of +our mouths. You ain't content with grinding <i>us</i> poor working men down +with taxes—you ain't content with having every luxury down to +almhouses, but you must interfere with <i>us</i>. If I catch your most +gracious Majesty with <i>half</i> a board on your back, I'll just smash you. +There!"</p> + +<p>It will be observed that the people had lost nothing of the outward show +of respect, and always addressed the king in the proper way.</p> + +<p>Poor Bibbs bought a penny biscuit, and with the remaining twopence a +piece of card and a bit of string. He wrote on the card,</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"PRAY PITY A POOR CONSTITUTIONAL MONARCH."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>And with his crown in his hand to get whatever charity would +give, he went into the bitter world to beg his way down to +the grave.</p> + +<hr style='width: 25%;' /> + +<p>Things went on merrily with the ministry for years. They +filled all the old places and invented new. They put the king's +head on the coin, and put the coin in their pockets.</p> + +<p>But one fine day a certain Eastern despot with whom they +had been intriguing, thought it a politic thing to pay King<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span> +Bibbs a visit <span class="smcap">in state</span>. Here was a pretty kettle of fish! What +were they to do for a king?</p> + +<p>It would never do to tell the Eastern despot they didn't know +where their king was, and they did not care; he would have +broken with them at once.</p> + +<p>They sent in all directions to inquire for the king, but he was +not to be found.</p> + +<p>They then tried an advertisement:—</p> + +<div class="pblockquot"><p>IF THIS SHOULD MEET THE EYE OF KING BIBBS,<br /> +he is requested to return to his disconsolate ministers, and +all shall be forgiven.</p></div> + +<p>But poor Bibbs had not seen a newspaper for years, and his +ministers were left disconsolate.</p> + +<p>Then appeared another advertisement:—</p> + +<div class="pblockquot"><p>LOST, A KING ANSWERING TO THE NAME OF BIBBS.<br /> +If any one will take him to the Treasury he will be +<i>liberally</i> rewarded.</p></div> + +<p>Now it so happened that a quiet man of business, as he was passing along +a country highway, saw a poor old half crazy man eating a few dry +crusts. By his side was a bent sceptre, and on his head an old and +battered crown, while his robe of royal purple was torn and soiled, and +the ermine on it worn nearly bare and black.</p> + +<p>As the stranger approached him, the old man took off his crown, and in a +feeble voice said, "Pray pity a poor constitutional monarch."</p> + +<p>The stranger looked in his face and exclaimed, "Good heaven, poor soul, +what has brought you to this?"</p> + +<p>The old man brushed a tear away from his sunken eye, and muttered—</p> + +<p>"It was all through that Liberal Government!"</p> + +<hr style='width: 25%;' /> + +<p>A week after a great city was all aglare with flags, and ablare with +trumpets. The streets were lined with people, and a procession passed, +at the head of which was a grand carriage drawn by eight horses. In the +carriage sat a feeble old man in a splendid robe, and with a new crown +that he kept taking off as he bowed to the multitude. At his side was +the splendid Eastern despot, who bowed too, for the people not only said +"Long live King Bibbs!" but they wished the splendid Eastern despot long +life as well. Near the palace gates as they returned, the king left off +bowing, and some were shocked at his pride and some at his pallor.</p> + +<p>A few days after there was a grand and solemn procession.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span></p> + +<p>And again, a few days after that, a grand and glorious procession.</p> + +<hr style='width: 25%;' /> + +<p>The Government were true to their policy, and the wording of their +advertisement. The stranger who had found King Bibbs, after wasting +years in applications, received a note to say his affair was under +consideration.</p> + +<p class="blockquot">(<i>By permission of the Author.</i>)</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 80%;" /> +<h2><a name="MOLLY_MULDOON" id="MOLLY_MULDOON"></a>MOLLY MULDOON.</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">Anonymous.</span></h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Molly Muldoon was an Irish girl,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And as fine a one<br /></span> +<span class="i4">As you'd look upon<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In the cot of a peasant or hall of an earl.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her teeth were white, though not of pearl,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And dark was her hair, but it did not curl;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet few who gazed on her teeth and her hair,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But owned that a power of beauty was there.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Now many a hearty and rattling gorsoon<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Whose fancy had charmed his heart into tune,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Would dare to approach fair Molly Muldoon,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">But for <i>that</i> in her eye<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Which made most of them shy<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And look quite ashamed, though they couldn't tell why—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her eyes were large, dark blue, and clear,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And <i>heart</i> and <i>mind</i> seemed in them blended.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If <i>intellect</i> sent you one look severe<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Love</i> instantly leapt in the next to mend it—<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Hers was the eye to check the rude,<br /></span> +<span class="i5">And hers the eye to stir emotion,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">To keep the sense and soul subdued<br /></span> +<span class="i5">And calm desire into devotion.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">There was Jemmy O'Hare,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">As fine a boy as you'd see in a fair,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And wherever Molly was he was there.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His face was round and his build was square,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And he sported as rare<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And tight a pair<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span><span class="i0">Of legs, to be sure, as are found anywhere.<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And Jemmy would wear<br /></span> +<span class="i4">His <i>caubeen</i> and hair<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With such a peculiar and rollicking air,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">That I'd venture to swear<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Not a girl in Kildare<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor Victoria's self, if she chanced to be there,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Could resist his wild way—called "Devil-may-care."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not a boy in the parish could match him for fun,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor wrestle, nor leap, nor hurl, nor run<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With Jemmy—No gorsoon could equal him—None,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">At wake, or at wedding, at feast or at fight,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">At throwing the sledge with such dext'rous sleight,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He was the envy of men, and the women's delight.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Now Molly Muldoon liked Jemmy O'Hare,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And in troth Jemmy loved in his heart Miss Muldoon.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I believe in my conscience a purtier pair<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Never danced in a tent at a pattern in June,—<br /></span> +<span class="i4">To a bagpipe or fiddle<br /></span> +<span class="i5">On the rough cabin door<br /></span> +<span class="i4">That is placed in the middle—<br /></span> +<span class="i5">Ye may talk as ye will<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There's a grace in the limbs of the peasantry there<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With which people of quality couldn't compare;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And Molly and Jemmy were counted the two<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That would keep up the longest and go the best through<br /></span> +<span class="i4">All the jigs and the reels<br /></span> +<span class="i4">That have occupied heels<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Since the days of the Murtaghs and Brian Boru.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">It was on a long bright sunny day<br /></span> +<span class="i2">They sat on a green knoll side by side,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But neither just then had much to say;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Their hearts were so full that they only tried<br /></span> +<span class="i3">To do anything foolish, just to hide<br /></span> +<span class="i3">What both of them felt, but what Molly denied.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">They plucked the speckled daisies that grew<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Close by their arms,—then tore them too;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the bright little leaves that they broke from the stalk<br /></span> +<span class="i2">They threw at each other for want of talk;<br /></span> +<span class="i3">While the heart-lit look and the sunny smile<br /></span> +<span class="i3">Reflected pure souls without art or guile,<br /></span> +<span class="i5">And every time Molly sighed or smiled,<br /></span> +<span class="i5">Jem felt himself grow as soft as a child;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And he fancied the sky never looked so bright,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The grass so green, the daisies so white;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Everything looked so gay in his sight<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That gladly he'd linger to watch them till night,—<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span><span class="i4">And Molly herself thought each little bird<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Whose warbling notes her calm soul stirred,—<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Sang only his lay but by her to be heard.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">An Irish courtship's short and sweet,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">It's sometimes foolish and indiscreet;<br /></span> +<span class="i4">But who is wise when his young heart's heat<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Whips the pulse to a galloping beat—<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Ties up his judgment neck and feet<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And makes him the slave of a blind conceit?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sneer not, therefore, at the loves of the poor,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Though their manners be rude their affections are pure;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They look not by art, and they love not by rule,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For their souls are not tempered in fashion's cold school.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oh! give me the love that endures no control<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But the delicate instinct that springs from the soul,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As the mountain stream gushes its freshness and force,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet obedient, wherever it flows to its source.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yes, give me that but Nature has taught,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By rank unallured and by riches unbought;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose very simplicity keeps it secure—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The love that illumines the heart of the poor.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">All blushful was Molly, or shy at least<br /></span> +<span class="i4">As one week before Lent<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Jem procured her consent<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To go the next Sunday and spake to the priest,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Shrove-Tuesday was named for the wedding to be,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And it dawned as bright as they'd wish to see.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Jemmy was up at the day's first peep<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For the live-long night, no wink could he sleep;<br /></span> +<span class="i4">A bran-new coat, with a bright big button,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">He took from a chest, and carefully put on—<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And brogues as well <i>lampblacked</i> as ever went foot on<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Were greased with the fat of <i>a quare sort of mutton</i>!<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Then a tidier <i>gorsoon</i> couldn't be seen<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Treading the Emerald sod so green—<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Light was his step and bright was his eye<br /></span> +<span class="i4">As he walked through the <i>slobbery</i> streets of Athy.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And each girl he passed, bid "God bless him," and sighed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While she wished in her heart that herself was the bride.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Hush! here's the Priest—let not the least<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whisper be heard till the father has ceased.<br /></span> +<span class="i6">"Come, bridegroom and bride,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">That the knot may be tied<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Which no power upon earth can hereafter divide."<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Up rose the bride, and the bridegroom too,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And a passage was made for them both to walk through!<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span><span class="i4">And his Rev'rence stood with a sanctified face,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Which spread its infection around the place.<br /></span> +<span class="i4">The bridesmaid bustled and whispered the bride,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Who felt so confused that she almost cried,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">But at last bore up and walked forward, where<br /></span> +<span class="i4">The Father was standing with solemn air;<br /></span> +<span class="i4">The bridegroom was following after with pride,<br /></span> +<span class="i4"><i>When his piercing eye something awful espied</i>!<br /></span> +<span class="i5">He stooped and sighed,<br /></span> +<span class="i5">Looked round and tried<br /></span> +<span class="i3">To tell what he saw, but his tongue denied:<br /></span> +<span class="i5">With a spring and a roar,<br /></span> +<span class="i5">He jumped to the door,<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">And the bride laid her eyes on the bridegroom no more!</span><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i5">Some years sped on<br /></span> +<span class="i5">Yet heard no one<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Of Jemmy O'Hare, or where he had gone.<br /></span> +<span class="i3">But since the night of that widowed feast,<br /></span> +<span class="i3">The strength of poor Molly had ever decreased;<br /></span> +<span class="i3">Till, at length, from earth's sorrow her soul released,<br /></span> +<span class="i3">Fled up to be ranked with the saints at least.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i3">And the morning poor Molly to live had ceased,<br /></span> +<span class="i3">Just five years after the widowed feast,<br /></span> +<span class="i3">An American letter was brought to the priest,<br /></span> +<span class="i3">Telling of Jemmy O'Hare deceased!<br /></span> +<span class="i5">Who ere his death,<br /></span> +<span class="i5">With his latest breath,<br /></span> +<span class="i3">To a spiritual father unburdened his breast<br /></span> +<span class="i3">And the cause of his sudden departure confest,—<br /></span> +<span class="i4">"Oh! Father," says he, "I've not long to live,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">So I'll freely confess, and hope you'll forgive—<br /></span> +<span class="i4">That same Molly Muldoon, sure I loved her indeed;<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Ay, as well, as the Creed<br /></span> +<span class="i4">That was never forsaken by one of my breed;<br /></span> +<span class="i3">But I couldn't have married her after I saw"—<br /></span> +<span class="i4">"Saw what?" cried the Father desirous to hear—<br /></span> +<span class="i3">And the chair that he sat in unconsciously rocking—<br /></span> +<span class="i3">"Not in her 'karàcter,' yer Rev'rince, a flaw"—<br /></span> +<span class="i3">The sick man here dropped a significant tear<br /></span> +<span class="i3">And died as he whispered in the clergyman's ear—<br /></span> +<span class="i3">"But I saw, God forgive her, <span class="smcap">a hole in her stocking</span>!"<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 80%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="THE_HARMONIOUS_LOBSTERS" id="THE_HARMONIOUS_LOBSTERS"></a>THE HARMONIOUS LOBSTERS.</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">Robert Reece.</span></h3> + +<p>It has always appeared to me as a remarkable fact that the practice of +Music does not promote amongst its devotees the harmony which is its own +very gist and soul. The "concord of sweet sounds" is not reflected in +the good fellowship and friendly cohesion of musicians; and the +spiritualising power of the divine art seems too often to evaporate with +the notes produced, and leave with its professors the hard <i>residuum</i> of +an exact science and a mechanical art.</p> + +<p>The rivalry and jealousy so noticeable amongst musical people is +peculiar to them; and, though you may with impunity neglect to demand +from the actors, poets, painters, sculptors, preachers, physicians, +surgeons, or lawyers an exhibition of their skill in their respective +arts, you will make a foe for life if you omit to ask the musician to +perform.</p> + +<p>We all know the "musical people" at parties; how cordially we welcome +the production of that fatal waterproof roll, with its diabolical +contents of "pieces" and "ballads;" how enthusiastically we press Jones +to "give us another song," and how cheerfully and promptly (I might +almost say "hastily") Jones obliges us. It is of no use suggesting to +Miss Robinson that you "are afraid you are taxing her too far." Miss +Robinson has another ballad, or another "piece"—"Tricklings at Eve," or +"Wobblings at Noon," ready for you.</p> + +<p>I have belonged to several musical clubs in my time, and know something +of my subject, especially the amateur section of it. I once officiated +at a professional gathering to the great hurt of a very kind man. I was +invited by a genial music publisher to join a "professional dinner" +which he gave yearly to the principal musicians, his very good friends. +The profession mustered very strongly, and did ample justice to +excellent fare; on our repairing to the drawing-room, I expected, of +course, to be entertained with some really good music, but I found that +no one would "start the ball."</p> + +<p>In the full glare of professional eyes I opened the piano and the +proceedings myself. Before I had played forty bars every "professional" +was making for the instrument. I concluded. I had "started the ball," or +rather a musical "boomerang," which was to return viciously upon me and +my host.</p> + +<p>Every man present held the pianoforte in turn, and at half-past two in +the morning (<i>I</i> had commenced at ten in the evening), there were still +some unwearied musicians insisting on playing their own compositions to +unappreciative audiences of rival professors. Perhaps they are still +playing. I never did any business with that music publisher again.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span></p> + +<p>Years ago I belonged to an amateur musical society which had its being +in a fashionable suburb, and was known by the felicitous title, "The +Harmonious Lobsters." To account for this name I may state that the +society owed its origin to certain jovial meetings held at a friend's +chambers, where these succulent <i>crustacea</i> were discussed (to soft +music) at supper, twice a month. As the club grew, the suppers deceased; +and, as the society became important and pretentious, so the original +joviality evaporated.</p> + +<p>"The Harmonious Lobsters" were as pleasant amongst themselves as the +genuine uncooked articles are in a fishmonger's basket. Every member +struggled to be "top-sawyer;" every artist, down to the little doctor +who played the triangle regarded himself as the mainstay, sole prop, and +presiding genius of the society.</p> + +<p>We mustered a small orchestra, consisting of two flutes, two cornets, +two violins, one viola, one violoncello, a drum, a clarionet, and the +triangle above mentioned.</p> + +<p>The performances of this "limited band" were more remarkable for their +force than their precision; and a want of "tone" and completeness was +the result of an endeavour on the part of each performer to make the +instrument he played specially conspicuous. It didn't matter so much +with the flutes, violins, and clarionet; but the two cornets were a +serious nuisance.</p> + +<p>Gasper and Puffin (both "first" cornets, of course!) were deadly rivals, +implacable foes. Each aspired to be the ruler of the club, each regarded +himself as <i>the</i> performer <i>par excellence</i>. The flutes were not +friendly, and the violoncello was crabbed and unpleasant, but those +cornets were insufferable.</p> + +<p>We all felt that a crisis was at hand, and we all devoutly wished it; +for while Puffin and Gasper asserted themselves, we others were, to a +defined extent, hiding our light under a bushel.</p> + +<p>The catastrophe was foreshadowed by a stormy meeting convened to arrange +the programme of our fourth and last annual concert.</p> + +<p>"Of course," premised the First Violin, who was also Secretary and +Librarian, "we have all a solo!"</p> + +<p>There was no doubt of <i>that</i>, except as regarded the "doubles," viz., +the two flutes and the two cornets. The first couple had so far +coalesced as to submit to the prowess being displayed in a duet, which +was destined to be less flute than elaborate flatulence.</p> + +<p>"Let's begin at the beginning," said Gasper. "No. 1: that's an overture +for <i>tutti</i>; say, 'The Caliph of Bagdad.'"</p> + +<p>"<i>I</i> don't mind," responded the Secretary. "It's easy enough, and +there's lots of show for the violins."</p> + +<p>"The question now arises," jerked in Puffin, "who is to be the <i>first</i> +soloist? <i>I</i> won't."</p> + +<p>"Nor likely to be," sneered Gasper.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I understand your narrow-mindedness, Gasper," retorted Puffin; "but I +shall choose my own place and my own solo."</p> + +<p>"So shall <i>I</i>," announced Gasper; "go on."</p> + +<p>The Secretary proceeded.</p> + +<p>"Shall we say: <span class="smcap">Solo</span> (<i>Clarionet</i>)—Mr. R. Lipsey."</p> + +<p>"Anything for a quiet life," said Lipsey. "<i>I</i>'m not afraid."</p> + +<p>So it went on for four more items, when it became obvious that the "best +place," in the first part of the programme was open to competition.</p> + +<p>"<i>My</i> solo," said Gasper, "comes in here."</p> + +<p>"Thank you," replied Puffin; "I claim it myself."</p> + +<p>"<i>Do</i> you?" grinned Gasper; "I stick to this point."</p> + +<p>"So do <i>I</i>," said the undaunted Puffin.</p> + +<p>"No, but really, you know," argued the Secretary, "it must be settled: +let <i>me</i> cut the knot. <i>I</i>'ll play <i>my</i> solo here."</p> + +<p>A howl of opposition now arose. Every performer, exclusive of the Drum +and the Triangle, had decided to "go in" for the "show place" in the +programme.</p> + +<p>"I leave the Society if I do not play my solo here," said Gasper. "I +have no more to say!" and he sat down.</p> + +<p>"So do <i>I</i>," echoed Puffin, "and get on with 'The Caliph' if you can +without a second cornet."</p> + +<p>This was clinching matters with a vengeance.</p> + +<p>"Look here," interposed the Doctor. "<i>I</i> don't play a solo, so I speak +impartially, I hope. Let Gasper play his solo in <i>this</i> part, and Puffin +<i>his</i> solo in the best place of the <i>second</i> part of the programme. +That'll settle it."</p> + +<p>There was a tumult immediately; everybody seemed to be multiplied by +ten.</p> + +<p>"Don't be a fool," whispered the Doctor to Gasper. "Stick to your right +place in the first part; all the swells look for <i>that</i>. They'll be gone +before Puffin gets <i>his</i> turn."</p> + +<p>Gasper was quiet in a moment.</p> + +<p>The Doctor, winking at me, got hold of the stony but still excited +Puffin.</p> + +<p>"Let him have his blessed solo <i>early</i>, my boy," said the Triangle. "The +big people won't have taken their seats by then. You'll have it all your +own way."</p> + +<p>To this day I believe the Doctor had a professional impulse in this +advice.</p> + +<p>During a lull Puffin spoke.</p> + +<p>"<i>Let</i> Mr. Gasper have his solo in the first part. I flatter myself I +can face the inferior position without any fear."</p> + +<p>"You are <i>so</i> modest," retorted the delighted Gasper. "Put it down, +Basscleff. <span class="smcap">Solo</span> (<i>Cornet</i>) 'The Wind from the Sea,' <i>Vulvini</i>—George +Gasper, Esq."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span></p> + +<p>"That's <i>my</i> solo," shouted Puffin; "and I'll play it!"</p> + +<hr style='width: 25%;' /> + +<p>Spare me the recital of the ensuing scene.</p> + +<p>"Listen to <i>me</i>," said the Triangle, maliciously. "We must come to +hard facts, I plainly see. The truth is, the difference between Mr. +Gasper and Mr. Puffin (both admirable performers) has assumed the aspect +of direct rivalry; I may go so far as to say, antagonism. Laudable, so +far as art is concerned; lamentable for the ill-feeling promoted. I +suggest that, for the setting at rest of the unfortunate dispute, and +the better spirit of the Society, it be arranged that the two gentlemen +<i>do</i> play the same solo at the same concert."</p> + +<p>Loud shouts, of varied sentiment, followed this daring speech.</p> + +<p>"A moment, please," cried the Doctor; "as Treasurer of this Musical +Society I may state that our financial condition is not so satisfactory +as it might be: if this competition gets wind—I mean, of course, if +people get to know of it, we shall have an enormous house."</p> + +<p>After some disputing, it was agreed that there was cogency in the +Doctor's suggestion.</p> + +<p>Other members were appeased with situations in the programme more or +less prominent, but when the twenty-four items had been satisfactorily +arranged, and the club separated, the general feeling was that the +interest of the concert, and the stake at issue, were the competitive +performances of Messrs. Puffin and Gasper.</p> + +<p>The evening of the concert arrived: so did Doctor Martel at my rooms: +the little man was suffused with delight.</p> + +<p>"My dear fellow!" he chuckled, "it'll be the funniest thing you ever +saw. I've been running to and fro all the week. Now to Gasper, now to +Puffin. 'You should hear Puffin phrase that passage about the 'wind +moaning,' said I to Gasper, 'it's tiptop,' and Gasper grinds his teeth. +Then I go to Puffin and say, 'Gasper's devoting himself to making a hit, +old man; the way he imitates the surge of the wave in the passage 'The +wild wave answers the winds,' will 'fetch' them, and no mistake!' and +Puffin turns pale."</p> + +<p>"What does it all portend?" asked I.</p> + +<p>"Wait and see, my lad," said the sly Doctor. "Wait and see."</p> + +<hr style='width: 25%;' /> + +<p>Eight o'clock! and I meet Puffin as I enter the "Artists' Room." I play +the <i>violino secondo</i>. I am nobody.</p> + +<p>"Well," say I, "how do you feel?"</p> + +<p>"Never mind," says the astute Puffin; "I bide my time! <i>Only</i> (mark my +words), Gasper won't score as heavily as he expects." With these dark +words he vanishes.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span></p> + +<p>The next moment I am face to face with Gasper.</p> + +<p>"How do you feel?" I ask of <i>him</i>.</p> + +<p>"Don't worry about <i>me</i>," replies Gasper. "I'm not afraid that Puffin +will cover himself with glory, after all." And Gasper retires.</p> + +<p>We had a wonderful "house" that night. The "competition" <i>had</i> been +noised abroad, and the wily doctor's surmises were fulfilled. There was +a Puffin and a Gasper faction ready to do battle for its respective +champion when the clarion of defiance rang out from the platform.</p> + +<p>I pass the overture, a solo on the clarionet, which reduced the pug-nose +of Lipsey to a severe aquiline during its performance; a flute and +violin <i>duo</i>, and etc. The time had come for "The Wind from the Sea" +(<i>George Gasper Esq.</i>). The favourite performer was hailed with shouts +of delight. The Puffin faction smiled silently.</p> + +<p>The opening bars of the symphony were played by the pianist.</p> + +<p>Gasper advanced with a half-restrained smile of self-satisfaction, and +after some singular contortions of his lips began to play the <i>scena</i> +for the cornet.</p> + +<p>But no sound followed his laboured effort! Again, and again, red in the +face, and furious, he essayed to produce a note from his silver +instrument. It was dumb!</p> + +<p>Not so the Puffin section of the audience; the titter soon became a +laugh, the laugh a shout, and finally with a stamp, and a diabolical +expression, Mr Gasper gave up the game, and retreated amidst a howl of +displeasure.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile where was Puffin? Never mind.</p> + +<p>Slowly went on the programme, till the item for which Mr. Puffin was +"set down" arrived in its place.</p> + +<p>More sensation in the audience. Puffin section cock-a-hoop. Similar +symphony on the part of the pianist, and the placid Puffin, a foregone +victory shaping his lips into a half-concealed smile, put his cornet to +his mouth, and——</p> + +<p>Well! while the audience was fighting its way out, half hysterical with +laughter (for the performance of Mr. Puffin had only reproduced Mr. +Gasper's failure), I was the unwilling witness of a "set-to" between the +rival cornet-players, who, having discovered that each had, +respectively, placed a cork up the principal tube of his opponent's +instrument, so far agreed, as to differ as to the justice of the +process. From the appearance of their upper lips, I am sure no solos +were to be apprehended for weeks to come. But, before our next club +meeting, Messrs. Gasper and Puffin had retired.</p> + +<p>I don't belong to any musical clubs now.</p> + +<p class="blockquot">(<i>By permission of the Author.</i>)</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 80%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="THE_PROVINCIAL_LANDLADY" id="THE_PROVINCIAL_LANDLADY"></a>THE PROVINCIAL LANDLADY.</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">H. Chance Newton.</span></h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Oh, dear Mister Editor, sir, if you please, they say you're a kind and humanious gent, sir,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which listens attentive to troubles and woes sech as worry an 'ard-working woman like me;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I'm worrited dreadful from morning to night with working and toilin' and sech,—which the rent, sir,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is not always quite so forthcoming as I, with my fam'ly, would wish it to be!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Which I keeps a big house in the square, sir, not five minits' walk from the R'yal Theaytre,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Jest oppersit Muggins's Music-hall, sir, which its "public" is known as the "Linnet and Lamb"—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But I am a lamb, sir, to stand it as I do, a-working away up till midnight, or later,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For a lot of purfessional folks, which the best of the bunch, sir, is nothing but sham!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">From them music-hall people as lodges with me is a set which I'm sure, sir, is simply outragious,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A-rushin' all over the house when I've scrubbed it and cleaned it jest like a new pin;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And as for them second-floor folks (which is niggers) believe me their conduct is something rampagious,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A-larkin' all over the landing, a-spoilin' the paper,—it's really a sin!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And the party wot sings comic songs, sir, goes in and out shouting whenever he pleases,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the next floor (the serio-comic)—well, there, she's a stuck-up, impertinent miss,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which the last ones as had them apartments wos folks as performed on the "flyin' trapeeses,"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And went away two pun' thirteen in my debt, and I've never beheld 'em from that day to this.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Than there's that ventrillikist party, as imitates different voices, and that, sir,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He frightens me out of my wits, which I'm sure as I haven't too many to spare;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And as for that Muggins's chairman, I frequently finds him asleep on the mat, sir,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which I characterises behaviour like that as werry disgraceful and shocking—so there!<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span></div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then the Sisters Mac-Jones (them duettists) comes bouncin' all over the place, quite disdainful,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A fault-findin' day after day, sir, dressed up in their fal-de-rals, looking like guys;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the party that sings sentimental goes on in a way as to me, sir, is painful,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He smokes a long pipe in the garding, which dreadful proceedings I can't but despise.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then a troop which I think is called ackribacks, knocks my best parlour to rack and to ruin,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A-chucking of summersets over my splendid meeogany tables and chairs;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Why to-day they all stood on their heads in the passage: "Good gracious," I shouted, "why what are you doin'?"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When they twisted their legs round their necks, sir, made faces, and told me to toddle downstairs!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Which I don't wish to make a remark, sir, that might be unpleasant, but while I was at it<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I thought as I'd mention the matters that cause me continual worry and din,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For if you excuse the expression, I ses, as for lettin' of lodgins',—oh, drat it!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"<i>If it wasn't for makin' it out of their board</i>," sir,—by jingers, I'd never let lodgins' agin!<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="blockquot">(<i>From</i> "<span class="smcap">The Penny Showman</span>," <i>by permission of the Author and</i> <span class="smcap">Mr. Samuel French</span>.)</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 80%;" /> +<h2><a name="MY_MATRIMONIAL_PREDICAMENT" id="MY_MATRIMONIAL_PREDICAMENT"></a>MY MATRIMONIAL PREDICAMENT.</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">Leopold Wagner.</span></h3> + +<p>I dare say a great many men in my situation would think themselves +highly honoured; but, however this may strike others, I fell bound to +confess that I am far from happy. The truth is, I have become so +entangled in the meshes of a really romantic love affair, that I can see +no possible hope of freeing myself. Let me hasten to explain.</p> + +<p>About twelve months ago I engaged myself to a pretty young girl, who, +out of sheer fickleness—it could have been nothing<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span> else—jilted me. I +was much cut up at the time, since I had learnt to grow very fond of +her. A little while after, I began to take an interest in another pretty +girl whom I came in contact with almost daily; but, as I had no means of +getting properly introduced to her, I never spoke. By-and-by she +disappeared, and I soon forgot her. Things went on with me in the usual +way until, suddenly growing tired of my lonely existence, I advertised +for "a nice young girl, thoroughly domesticated, able and willing to +make a good-looking young bachelor happy;" adding, "Previous experience +not necessary." In this way I actually found one who answered my +expectations to the letter. We met, took the usual walks; and in the +course of a week or two, I could see she loved me with her whole heart. +The arrangments for our wedding were soon made. I procured the ring and +keeper; then put up the banns. Now the house I live in is peculiarly +situated. When I lie in bed, my head is in Blankshire, while my feet +extend over the boundary-line into Chumpshire. This may appear a slight +matter enough; and yet, I fancy, that if hard times should ever overtake +me, I would have two different parishes to fall back upon. However, I +found it necessary to publish the banns in both parishes; added to which +my <i>fiancée</i>, who is, or rather was, a lady's maid, a mile or two away +in another direction, must needs put them up in her own parish also. So +that I ought to reckon myself very much married, when it's all over. But +here comes my predicament.</p> + +<p>I forgot to mention that the girl who jilted me is godmother to my +landlady's new baby. This slight relationship enables my landlady to +take the liberty of corresponding with her; and the other day, as it +transpires, she let slip the news of my approaching marriage. About the +same time, I not only met, but had the pleasure of being introduced to, +the second pretty girl at a concert. She, too, had heard of my marriage; +and presently confessed that she loved me herself; that, in fact, she +would never have left the neighbourhood if I had only once spoken to +her. This put me about considerably; and I heartily wished my wedding +was not so far advanced. Arrived home, I found a letter from the first +girl imploring me to pause before it was too late, and begging my +forgiveness for her past conduct. I took no notice of it; but the next +day brought her over, to stay, invited by my landlady. It was impossible +for me to offer any objection, as I was only a lodger myself. Still, the +girl's manner was convincing. She threw herself into my arms, and begged +I would postpone the ceremony, until she could really prove her devotion +to me. This was rather awkward; for, almost on the instant, all my old +love came back to me again, and I could not let her go.</p> + +<p>The following day I took her about a bit, when I fell in love with her +more than ever. In the afternoon I even went so far as to write to her +mother, asking her to drop over to tea on<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span> Sunday afternoon. That night +I also introduced her to the second pretty girl—whom I must now speak +of as Miss No. 3. To my great surprise, the two became fast friends. On +the Sunday morning, when the little godmother heard my banns called out +in church, she fainted right away, and had to be carried outside. For +myself, I felt like listening to my own death-warrant. At tea-time the +mother came over; so she and my landlady soon settled it between +themselves, that the little godmother had the greatest right to me. In +the middle of all this, my <i>fiancée</i> turned up, when a lively scene +ensued. Eventually I left the house with her, to explain matters. But +nothing would satisfy her short of my marrying her, as she had the right +to demand. She swore that if I did not go through with the ceremony, she +would make away with herself. No; she had no intention of bringing up a +breach of promise case, for she loved me too much. Poor girl; I pitied +her from the bottom of my heart, and went straight back to my place to +give the little godmother her <i>congé</i>. But when we reached the house, I +found the latter stretched upon the floor in a dead faint; and my +courage completely gave way. I could not make up my mind which of the +two girls I liked the best, so begged for a little time to decide. My +<i>fiancée</i> went into the back parlour to cry, while I, in a frenzy of +distraction, rushed first to one girl, then to the other; and at last +into the open air, full butt against the third girl, who, brokenhearted, +was coming to see me. I thought the best thing I could do would be to go +for a walk and try to console her. I did; but this little walk turned +out so delightful, that I forgot all about the other two girls, and fell +madly in love with <i>her</i>! On our way back to my place, we met my +<i>fiancée</i> just leaving. I introduced and saw them both home. When I +reached home myself, Miss. No. 1 had been put to bed; her mother had +gone, while I was left to reflect upon my singular position. In the +morning at breakfast, the girl came to me crying; hanging round my neck, +and telling me how much she loved me. "Don't marry her, marry me!" she +pleaded, as I left the house on business. During the day I redeemed a +promise exacted from me by No. 3 to visit her, when she told me the same +tale. I also received a letter from my <i>fiancée</i>, demanding whether or +not I intended to go through the ceremony; failing which she would end +her life by poison. This was very dreadful; I went to see her, and +begged time for consideration.</p> + +<p>The fact is, I could not—nor can I yet—make up my mind which I like +best. I love them all, and am convinced they each love me. Position has +nothing whatever to do with it, for I am only a poor man. Had I money, I +might perhaps square the difficulty with the mothers; but the girls +themselves are above mercenary ideas. I am sure, nay, <i>positive</i> that +they love me for myself alone. They are not even unfriendly disposed +towards each other, which is the most awkward part of the business. If<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span> +they would only consent to be locked up in a room together and fight it +out amongst themselves, I might be able to marry whichever one was left +alive. But no such thing. Each swears she will not stand in the others' +way, yet vows suicide if I do not individually marry <i>her</i>. The other +morning, because I would not give her a decided "Yes," No. 1 ran out of +the house to drown herself, and I arrived on the scene just in the nick +of time to pull her back at the water's edge, by the bustle. A day or so +afterwards, No. 3 put the same question to me, and noticing my +hesitation, had well-nigh leapt upon the railway metals before I could +prevent her. I didn't see my <i>fiancée</i> that night: but at six o'clock +the next morning, my landlady knocked me up to say that according to a +message left with her late at night Miss No. 2 had poisoned herself. For +an hour or so I was completely stunned; but after that time I dressed +and ran to the house, to find that the whole affair was a hoax. I intend +to be even with the fellow who played it on me, yet.</p> + +<p>This kind of thing has been going on for more than a week, and I feel +worried to death. The latest is that, in addition to No. 1, both the +other girls have taken up their residence with my landlady. I would fly +if I could, but my business compels me to remain on the spot. The three +girls follow me about everywhere. I never have a minute's peace. Though +the greatest of friends, they are at the same time jealous of trusting +each other alone with me, lest I should commit myself to any rash +promise. I suppose I am one of those susceptible fellows who falls in +love with any girl who may encourage him. It must be so. Yet these girls +are every bit as nice as they are loving and <i>different</i>. No. 1 is very +young and pretty; my <i>fiancée</i> has a splendid figure, and is thoroughly +domesticated; No. 3 is my counterpart in everything. I love them all, +and can't for the life of me tell which I like the best. Whatever I do, +it will be a case of suicide for two of them, or a couple of breach of +promise actions for me. I ought to have stated before that the mothers +have taken lodgings in the house as well, so that I am in for a nice +thing! I would marry all three if the law allowed me; but though the +girls themselves might not object, yet the prospect of <i>three</i> +mothers-in-law is too much for one man to contemplate. The most sensible +arrangement would be, I think, not to marry anybody, but to go on loving +all three in a perfectly platonic manner until something happened to +make two of them throw the game up. I dare say the girls would be +willing enough—one of them even suggested it herself yesterday; but the +mothers won't hear of such a thing, their purpose being to bring me to +the point at once. I am a great favourite with the mothers too; and +their solicitations that I should marry their respective daughters are +almost as pressing as are those of the girls themselves. Really I am in +a most uncomfortable position. Out of doors, as I walk along followed by +these three young<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span> creatures, I am regarded as a noted character, and +the people everywhere whisper, "There goes the young man with his three +wives!" I shouldn't mind this in the least if only the mothers would +pack up their traps and go about their business. But they won't; here +they stick at my very elbow, calmly waiting for me to say whose daughter +I really mean to marry. So long as I refuse to give an answer to all +three, I am safe; but the business is getting just a little bit +tiresome, and I should heartily like to see my way out of it.</p> + +<p>Was there ever anybody in such a predicament before! What shall I do? +What can I do? Is there any charitably-disposed person here who can +advise me? No? Then I am a doomed man, and must meet my fate resignedly. +However, I vow and declare that if by any chance I <i>should</i> get over +this, I'll not repeat the experiment as long as I live.</p> + +<p class="blockquot">(<i>Copyright of the Author.</i>)</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 80%;" /> +<h2><a name="ETIQUETTE" id="ETIQUETTE"></a>ETIQUETTE.</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">W. S. Gilbert.</span></h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The <i>Ballyshannon</i> foundered off the coast of Cariboo,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And down in fathoms many went the captain and the crew;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Down went the owners—greedy men whom hope of gain allured:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oh, dry the starting tear, for they were heavily insured.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Besides the captain and the mate, the owners and the crew,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The passengers were also drowned excepting only two:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Young <span class="smcap">Peter Gray</span>, who tasted teas for <span class="smcap">Barber, Croop, and Co.</span>,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And <span class="smcap">Somers</span>, who from Eastern shores imported indigo.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">These passengers, by reason of their clinging to a mast,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Upon a desert island were eventually cast.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They hunted for their meals, as <span class="smcap">Alexander Selkirk</span> used,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But they couldn't chat together—they had not been introduced.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">For <span class="smcap">Peter Gray</span>, and <span class="smcap">Somers</span> too, though certainly in trade,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Were properly particular about the friends they made;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And somehow thus they settled it without a word of mouth—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That <span class="smcap">Gray</span> should take the northern half, while <span class="smcap">Somers</span> took the south.<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span></div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">On <span class="smcap">Peter's</span> portion oysters grew—a delicacy rare,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But oysters were a delicacy <span class="smcap">Peter</span> couldn't bear.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On <span class="smcap">Somers'</span> side was turtle, on the shingle lying thick,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which <span class="smcap">Somers</span> couldn't eat, because it always made him sick.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Gray</span> gnashed his teeth with envy as he saw a mighty store<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of turtle unmolested on his fellow-creature's shore.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The oysters at his feet aside impatiently he shoved,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For turtle and his mother were the only things he loved.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And <span class="smcap">Somers</span> sighed in sorrow as he settled in the south,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For the thought of <span class="smcap">Peter's</span> oysters brought the water to his mouth.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He longed to lay him down upon the shelly bed, and stuff;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He had often eaten oysters, but had never had enough.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">How they wished an introduction to each other they had had<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When on board the <i>Ballyshannon</i>! And it drove them nearly mad,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To think how very friendly with each other they might get,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If it wasn't for the arbitrary rule of etiquette!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">One day when out hunting for the <i>mus ridiculus</i>,<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Gray</span> overheard his fellow-man soliloquising thus:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"I wonder how the playmates of my youth are getting on,<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">McConnell</span>, <span class="smcap">S. B. Walters</span>, <span class="smcap">Paddy Byles</span>, and <span class="smcap">Robinson</span>?"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">These simple words made <span class="smcap">Peter</span> as delighted as could be,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Old chummies at the Charterhouse were <span class="smcap">Robinson</span> and he!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He walked straight up to <span class="smcap">Somers</span>, then he turned extremely red,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hesitated, hummed and hawed a bit, then cleared his throat, and said:<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I beg your pardon—pray forgive me if I seem too bold,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But you have breathed a name I knew familiarly of old.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You spoke aloud of <span class="smcap">Robinson</span>—I happened to be by.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You know him?" "Yes, extremely well." "Allow me, so do I."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">It was enough: they felt they could more pleasantly get on,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For (ah, the magic of the fact!) they each knew <span class="smcap">Robinson</span>!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And <span class="smcap">Mr. Somers'</span> turtle was at <span class="smcap">Peter's</span> service quite,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And <span class="smcap">Mr. Somers</span> punished <span class="smcap">Peter's</span> oyster-beds all night.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">They soon became like brothers from community of wrongs:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They wrote each other little odes and sang each other songs;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They told each other anecdotes disparaging their wives;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On several occasions, too, they saved each other's lives.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">They felt quite melancholy when they parted for the night,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And got up in the morning soon as ever it was light;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Each other's pleasant company they reckoned so upon,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And all because it happened that they both knew <span class="smcap">Robinson</span>!<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span></div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">They lived for many years on that inhospitable shore,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And day by day they learned to love each other more and more.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At last, to their astonishment, on getting up one day,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They saw a frigate anchored in the offing of the bay.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">To <span class="smcap">Peter</span> an idea occurred, "Suppose we cross the main?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So good an opportunity may not be found again."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And <span class="smcap">Somers</span> thought a minute, then ejaculated, "Done!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I wonder how my business in the City's getting on?"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"But stay," said <span class="smcap">Mr. Peter</span>: "when in England, as you know,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I earned a living tasting teas for <span class="smcap">Barber, Croop, and Co.</span>,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I may be superseded—my employers think me dead!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Then come with me," said <span class="smcap">Somers</span>, "and taste indigo instead."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But all their plans were scattered in a moment when they found,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The vessel was a convict ship from Portland outward bound;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When a boat came off to fetch them, though they felt it very kind,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To go on board they firmly but respectfully declined.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">As both the happy settlers roared with laughter at the joke,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They recognised a gentlemanly fellow pulling stroke:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Twas <span class="smcap">Robinson</span>—a convict, in an unbecoming frock!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Condemned to seven years for misappropriating stock!!!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">They laughed no more, for <span class="smcap">Somers</span> thought he had been rather rash<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In knowing one whose friend had misappropriated cash;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And <span class="smcap">Peter</span> thought a foolish tack he must have gone upon<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In making the acquaintance of a friend of <span class="smcap">Robinson</span>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">At first they didn't quarrel very openly, I've heard;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They nodded when they met, and now and then exchanged a word:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The word grew rare, and rarer still the nodding of the head,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And when they meet each other now, they cut each other dead.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">To allocate the island they agreed by word of mouth,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And <span class="smcap">Peter</span> takes the north again, and <span class="smcap">Somers</span> takes the south;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And <span class="smcap">Peter</span> has the oysters, which he hates in layers thick,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And <span class="smcap">Somers</span> has the turtle—turtle always makes him sick.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="blockquot">(<i>By permission of the Author.</i>)</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 80%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="A_LOST_SHEPHERD" id="A_LOST_SHEPHERD"></a>A LOST SHEPHERD.</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">Frank Barrett.</span></h3> + +<p>Winklehaven was once a very bad place. Roads, trade, +drainage—everything was as bad as it could be. The fishermen +were bad, and beat their wives, and their wives were bad and +deserved all the beating they got, and more. The fish caught +there was bad before it went to market. The very parson was +bad, and preached the excisemen to sleep whilst Red Robert and +Black Bill ran their cargo of smuggled bad brandy.</p> + +<p>Families who should have been respectable were not. Parents +whipped their children into rebellion and then cut them off with +shillings—bad ones, of course. Wards defied their guardians, +and invariably fell in love contrary to the arrangements of their +seniors. All the young men ran away with all the eligible +young women.</p> + +<p>The natural result was that after a dozen years from the +time when Winklehaven stood at its worst, the population of +the town consisted of infirm old people suffering from remorse, +gout, and other afflictions proceeding from the excesses of youth, +and such spinsters as were rejected by the young rakes of the +preceding era. The moral aspect of the place changed in those +years; it was no longer unholy, but, indeed, the most virtuous +of human settlements.</p> + +<p>The fishermen were too old and weak to beat their wives, and +their failing memories could supply them with no oaths suitable +to express their feelings. The wicked parson and the smugglers +were no more; there wasn't a young man in the place, and the +ladies who called themselves young were irreproachable.</p> + +<p>It might strike the unthinking as an extraordinary peculiarity +that a place so very, very good should require a curate in +addition to a deaf rector. Nevertheless such was the case—a +curate was wanted, and wanted very much by the congregation +of St. Tickleimpit's—the unblemished spinsters, who called +themselves young. They would have a curate, and Mr. +Lillywhite Lambe, B.A., they had.</p> + +<p>Now as the snow falls like a veil of purity over the face of +the earth, only to melt and besmirch it before the lasting season +of blossoming sweetness, so Mr. Lillywhite Lambe, B.A., came +to Winklehaven and passed away before it attained to its +present buttercup-and-daisy condition of virtue; and the +manner of his going this pen shall tell.</p> + +<p>Mr. Lillywhite Lambe, B.A., was a curate of the deepest dye. +He had not so much principle as a bankrupt, and he came to +Winklehaven with the settled purpose of marrying the richest +and least objectionable of his congregation. The difficulties in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span> +his way were few. In personal appearance and demeanour he +was so simple and sweet that even the rector was mistaken and +thought him a fool, and what more could a girl of five-and-forty +desire?</p> + +<p>It was not a question which he <i>could</i> marry from amongst the +eighteen or twenty tempting creatures around him, but rather +which he should reject. They surrounded him like a glory +wherever he went, waiting for him at his coming out and never +leaving him until his going in. Seldom less than half-a-dozen +spinsters accompanied him; they liked him too much and each +other too little to trust him with one alone. And they wrote +letters to him marked "private," containing the burning +thoughts they dared not express in the presence of their sisters. +Each was tantamount to an offer of marriage; but he was yet +undecided in his selection, and replied to all with touching yet +ambiguous texts. At this time he suffered somewhat from +bile, for his most active exercise was wool-winding, and the +ladies buttered his toast on both sides and the edges.</p> + +<p>But anon there came a man with a black beard and a devil-may-care aspect +to Winklehaven, and took for six months the cottage on the deserted West +Cliff, which had belonged to Black Bill in the bad old times.</p> + +<p>The stranger snubbed the inquisitive tradesman of whom he bought his +groceries; he ordered his bacon by the side, his beer by the barrel, and +his whisky by the largest of stone bottles. He laughed aloud when he +passed in the High Street Mr. Lambe with the three Misses Cockle on one +side of him, and the three Misses Crabbe on the other. The ladies had +not any doubt that he was a bold bad man, and declared one and all that +nothing would tempt them to venture upon that dreadful West Cliff.</p> + +<p>But, sinners being so few, they could not but feel interested in this +man with the black beard and dark eyes, and when he came not to church +on Sunday they implored the rector to visit him.</p> + +<p>The rector said he would not go (and privately swore it, in episcopal +terms, for he hated walking and sinners equally), but he offered the +services of his curate; and the congregation, though it fain would have +spared its pet curate so dangerous a mission, could not refuse to +accept.</p> + +<p>Mr. Lillywhite Lambe, B.A., found it difficult to conceal his delight at +the prospect before him, for an excess of ladies and butter was killing +him. He had not enjoyed half an hour's freedom in the open air since his +arrival at Winklehaven; it seemed to him years since he smoked a morning +pipe. His bowels yearned towards beer from the barrel and whiskey from +stone jars.</p> + +<p>That last evening he was ever to spend in his lodgings at Winklehaven he +occupied in preparations for the morrow. He<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span> looked up the pipe he had +brought with him but never smoked, and tobacco—dry and dusty, yet +fragrant as hay new mown, and pipe-lights, and a French novel; these he +stuffed into the pockets of his alpaca coat, ingeniously overlaying them +with his pamphlet confuting the doctrines of the Primitive Bedlamites. +In the morning he rose gaily; and when he had parted with his anxious +flock at the foot of the west hill, he ascended the steep path, like a +cherub climbing a cloud, without sense of exertion, and as one who is +resolved to make a day of it.</p> + +<p>A walk of two miles was before him, but he did not hurry himself after +he had lost sight of the spinsters and the church weathercock. He +stopped, took off his collar and band, bared his shirt front to the +breeze, and took a deep inspiration. Then he threw himself on the thymy +grass and tasted liberty. He smoked three pipes; he read two chapters +and a half of the novel, skipping the moral parts; he dropped the book, +turned over on his chest, and with his clerical hat tilted sideways over +his eyes, he watched the distant ships for half an hour; after that he +lay on his back, drew a handkerchief over his eyes and went to sleep. He +slumbered for two blessed hours, and then waking athirst, thought kindly +of the sinner who kept his beer in barrels and whisky in cool stoneware.</p> + +<p>So he pulled himself into Evangelical shape again and stepped out +briskly for the smuggler's cottage, smacking his lips. But, alas, the +cottage door was barred, and there was no trace of the black-bearded +sinner, save a flitch of bacon and the beer barrel which stood in the +most inaccessible of pantries.</p> + +<p>He must wait. Once more he sat upon the short grass, and to beguile the +time, drew out the budget of letters sent by his admiring congregation. +He read them through, one after another, with the view of forming a +comparative estimate of the writer's value, but the difficulty of +selecting one seemed greater than ever.</p> + +<p>The temporal and spiritual worth of each was represented by +<i>x</i>. With the chance of facilitating his choice he had recourse +to his pencil, with which he was tolerably skilful, and on the +back of each letter he drew a portrait of its sender. These +spinsters were beyond flattery, so he caricatured them to find +which must certainly be rejected as the worst looking.</p> + +<p>In this amusing occupation the time would have passed unheeded but for +Mr. Lambe's increasing dryness. There was no water to be had, no, nor +wine, and the interior of the young curate's mouth felt like brown paper +to his tongue. It suddenly came to his mind that a dip in the cool sea +would refresh his body, now suffering from external in addition to +internal dryness. For the hour was two, the month July, and the sun +unclouded, and he determined at once to bathe, wondering why he had not +availed himself of this blessing of freedom. Except in a footbath he had +not bathed during the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span> term of his curacy at Winklehaven. How could he, +where there was neither seclusion nor bathing machine?</p> + +<p>The tide was at ebb, and a long stretch of sand lay between the cliff +and the sea; but near the water's edge stood a rock, and thither Mr. +Lambe betook himself. On the cliff side was a little shelf dried by the +sun, and on this he laid his clothes neatly; then with a smile +irradiating his countenance, he slapped his thin legs and ran down into +the bursting waves. Quickly he lost all thought of thirst—of +everything, save the enjoyment of the moment. He swam in every +conceivable position, bent in girlish fashion to meet the coming waves, +and floundered about like a porpoise.</p> + +<p>It was whilst turning over head and heels that he caught sight of that +which, in a moment, sobered him—a petticoat upon the cliff—another, +another! yet others, each with a wearer! They were not a thousand yards +from the cottage on the cliff—those ladies whose outlines he +recognised, even at their remote distance from him. Full well he knew +they had come to look for him. What was he to do? How could he face +them, how avoid? He had thought to dry himself like a raisin in the sun; +that now was impossible. Equally impracticable was it to clothe himself +wet; before he had a sock on he would be observed, for there was no +ledge upon the sea-ward side of the rock, and the flowing waves already +touched its base.</p> + +<p>The only place of concealment was behind the rock, and there he must +stay until the ladies retired.</p> + +<p>He lay in the water, and through a chink in the rock watched his +pursuers; their voices, in high-pitched consultation, reached his ear.</p> + +<p>They examined the cottage on the cliff, and then descended to the rocks +at its base. It was only natural that the ladies should think their +beloved curate murdered. They had not seen him for six hours; and his +destruction at the hands of the black-bearded man was the worst +explanation of his protracted absence that entered their imagination. +This fear had led them to follow in his footsteps; and now, as they +poked their sun-shades in the fissures of the rocks, it was with the +expectation of finding his corpse.</p> + +<p>Mr. Lambe was fervently thankful that the rising tide kept them from his +place of concealment, and watched their movements fixedly, until the +cramp seized his leg; and then, in the limited space of his seclusion, +he exercised his ingenuity to keep the vital heat within him.</p> + +<p>Occasionally he glanced at the shore. When the ladies were fatigued, +they systematically divided their number—one going to search, whilst +the other rested. Hour after hour passed, and every minute brought fresh +cramps and racking pains to the limbs of the sodden curate. He had to +put his lips between his teeth, lest their violent chattering should +proclaim his where<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span>abouts; and he cried like a child when he found his +body assuming the blue tints of an unboiled lobster.</p> + +<p>But still those doting spinsters poked amongst the sea-weed with +unceasing zeal.</p> + +<p>The sun was wearing the horizon, when he heard a scream, and beheld the +second Miss Cockle pointing in the direction of his rock.</p> + +<p>Mr. Lambe was perplexed: it was impossible that his eye, peeping through +the small chink, had been discovered; but a moment later his perplexity +gave place to horror, as he perceived his hat bobbing gaily on the waves +between him and the shore. It was followed by his stockings, and behind +them in procession his waistcoat, coat—everything! all washed away from +the nice little ledge by the rising tide. He had never given his clothes +a thought from the moment he neatly packed them. But had that +consideration entered his mind, it could only have added to his anxiety: +for it would have been impossible to get them from the place where they +lay on the coast-side of the rock without displaying himself. Heedless +of their boots, the ladies hooked at the oncoming vestments with their +sunshades; and, now, one has his collar, another his dear hat, and a +third his blessed braces, whilst their cries of woe echo along the +coast.</p> + +<p>When his coat was fished out, what could be expected, but that the +ladies all should dash at his pockets with a view to gratifying their +curiosity, and rescuing the letters which betrayed their most private +feelings.</p> + +<p>With groans, Mr. Lambe beheld his pipe and tobacco brought forth, amidst +cries of astonishment, then the French novel; and, finally, the bundle +of letters. He could not bear to see the result, when each, seizing the +letter in her own handwriting, should find her caricature thereon; and +dropping his head, he beat it with his fist—partly in frenzy, partly to +promote the circulation of his stagnating blood.</p> + +<hr style='width: 25%;' /> + +<p>The black-bearded man returned to the cottage as the ladies, carrying +the only remains they could find of their curate, were leaving his +vicinity. He was not displeased that he was later than usual in +returning; for although he loved the beautiful, he did not like the +ladies of Winklehaven.</p> + +<p>He lived by painting pictures, this pariah of the West Cliff; +nevertheless, he had some good qualities, and when half an hour later a +nude study, shivering and wet, presented itself in his doorway craving +to be taken in out of the night wind, he asked no question until he had +wrapped him in warm blankets, and filled him with strong liquors.</p> + +<p>Mr. Lillywhite Lambe never returned to his curacy, never married a rich +spinster. His disappearance was not inquired<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span> into deeply. Some people +preferred to think of him as dead and sainted. He was supposed to be +drowned, and his ghost was said to be visible at times upon the West +Cliff—generally with a pipe in his mouth. And as his costume was that +of the black man, who was habitually at his side, it was further +supposed that he had, in that first visit to the cottage on the cliff, +sold himself to the D——.</p> + +<p class="blockquot">(<i>By permission of the Author.</i>)</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 80%;" /> +<h2><a name="A_MATHEMATIC_MADNESS" id="A_MATHEMATIC_MADNESS"></a>A MATHEMATIC MADNESS.</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">F. P. Dempster.</span></h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">For months I had been "grinding" Mathematics day and night<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When Miss McGirton cast on my affections such a blight;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My mind unhinged now only creaks, and when I tell my woes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I'm forced to lisp in <i>numbers</i> what I'd rather say in prose.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Sweet maiden <i>perpendicular</i>! She gave a <i>slanting</i> sigh<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As o'er my kneeling form she cast a calculating eye.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Ah! well" said I, "you <i>cipher</i> me, for if you'll not be mine<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From out this pocket next my heart I'll <i>straight produce a line</i>;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So ere you are, dear <i>Polly</i>, <i>gone</i>, pray heed your lover's vow,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or he dangles <i>at right angles</i> to some <i>horizontal</i> bough."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The maid flew in no <i>frustrum</i>—like your giddy gushing girls—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But standing calm and frigid, shook her strictly <i>spiral</i> curls,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And said, "You see we're equal as to station: very well!<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Our paths in life could never meet, because they're parallel.</i>"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Her voice was so serrated that I fled this maid antique;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then, approaching her <i>obliquely</i>, <i>at a tangent</i> took her cheek!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The kiss was too <i>elliptical</i>! She vanished into space!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And a circulating obelisk now marks the fatal place.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Weeks fled. My doctor shook his head and said, "You must embark<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For an utter change." I did: and went aboard a leaky <i>Arc</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bound for the hot <i>Quadratics</i>, where I landed for a week,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And joined the aborigines in every savage freak.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I felled primeval forests with the <i>axes of a cube</i>,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At the feathery <i>Parabolas</i> I aimed the loaded tube;<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span><span class="i0">(For while aboard the Arc, you see, I found on <i>deck a gun</i>,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, cunning as a Crusoe, put it by for future fun.)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While safe within some <i>brackets</i> I have watched those bulky brutes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The snorting <i>Parallelograms</i> that feed upon <i>square roots</i>;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Their noise would rouse the forest till each denizen therein<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Woke up and did its "level best" to swell the horrid din.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oh! the shrieking of the <i>Cylinder</i>! the <i>Pyramid's base</i> moan,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The clucking of the <i>Sector</i> and the cooing of the <i>Cone</i>!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then a lull perhaps, while distant ululations would reveal<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The natives chanting grace before their missionary meal.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In truth it was an evil place, for a <i>Vinculum</i> might rise<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At any moment in your path and wobble its wild eyes;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And oft, when looking for a <i>log</i> I'd shake in ev'ry joint<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For fear some deadly <i>Decimal</i> might sting me with its <i>point</i>.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At last I plucked up courage, though, and even gained renown<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In getting gallant trophies for my home in Camden Town:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I killed the cruel <i>Quatrefoil</i> to take her snarling cub,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or doubled up a cannibal to get his graven club;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I trapped the roaring <i>Rhombuses</i>, those beasts of fearful strength,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the <i>Parallelopipedon</i>, a snake of awful length;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oft I bestrode the <i>Algebra</i> and charged in wild career<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The proud opaque <i>Hypotenuse</i> and jabbed him with my spear.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Tis past! I'm now in London: yet my reason's all awry.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I'm yearning for a vanished maid who gave a slanting sigh.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor may we meet in Dreamland: e'en there I'm robbed of rest,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For a wizened old <i>Trapezium</i> sits sulking on my chest;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or two <i>triangles</i> she jangles with a semilunar leer,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till I wake—with hair erect—in one <i>diagonal</i> of fear!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And mark to the clang of <i>symbols</i>, phantom figures march all day<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In <i>co-efficient</i> cohorts—<i>Major Axis</i> leads the way.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In short, from early morn until I shuffle off to bed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But one equation's clear to me,—<i>o</i>=<i>ayz</i>.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="blockquot">(<i>By permission of the Author.</i>)</p> + + + + +<hr style="width: 80%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="WAITING_AT_TOTTLEPOT" id="WAITING_AT_TOTTLEPOT"></a>WAITING AT TOTTLEPOT.</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">J. Ashby-Sterry.</span></h3> + +<p>An hour to wait! Well that's a nuisance, but I suppose there is no help +for it.</p> + +<p>I cannot possibly go on without my portmanteau. And they may send the +wrong one after all. I believe my friend the dismal porter—the faded +misanthrope in corduroys, only telegraphed for a brown portmanteau. +There are probably twenty brown portmanteaux at this present moment +waiting at Jigby Junction, and if I know anything of railway officials, +they will be sure to send the wrong one. So here I must wait.</p> + +<p>I suppose I must have made a mistake in the train. No trap, dog-cart, or +conveyance of any kind to meet me from Clewmere. Wonder whether they had +my telegram. The Faded Misanthrope says he is quite certain nothing has +been over from Clewmere since the day before yesterday. And then he says +Sir Charles and some of the young ladies came in the waggonette. They +waited to see two trains in, he told me, and then drove away saying +there must be some mistake. Hope I did not say Tuesday instead of +Thursday, or what is far more likely, write Thursday to look like +Tuesday. I ask my friend the porter if there is any other way of getting +to Clewmere. "No," he says, "it is a longish walk, a matter of twelve or +thirteen miles, and a pretty rough road too."</p> + +<p>"Now," he says "if it had only been Saturday instead of Thursday, there +is Smaggleton's 'bus, as 'ud put you down within five minutes' walk of +the lodge. Smaggleton don't run every day, he don't; he only runs o' +Saturdays, bein' market day at Stamborough, and a pooty full load he +gets there and back, which pays Smaggleton very well. And Smaggleton +wants it," he continues, "what with the branch line to Stamborough, +Smaggleton's business ain't what it was; he can't afford to turn up his +nose at a few farmers and their missusses now-a-days. Smaggleton must +take things as they come—the good and the bad, the rough and the +smooth—as well as the rest of us. Lor, bless you, Sir, I recollect when +Smaggleton used to drive about in his dog-cart, in a light top coat, a +white hat and a rose in his button-hole, he always was quite the——"</p> + +<p>As I do not feel particularly interested in the rise, progress or +downfall of Smaggleton, I am obliged to interrupt my garrulous friend, +and ask if they did not let out flys at the Crackleton Arms, hard by. He +informs me, they certainly do "in a usual way." But he adds, they have +only two flys. One is having something done to the wheels, and the other +went away early this morning to take some friends of Squire Bullamore's +to a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span> pic-nic. He furthermore tells me that Cudgerry, the carrier, would +perhaps be able to give me a lift, but he would not be here till seven +o'clock this evening. As they dine at Clewmere at eight, of course +Cudgerry is quite out of the question. My friend shakes his head, he +retires into a dark, greasy room, which seems to be devoted to lamps, +and I continue my walk up and down the platform.</p> + +<p>Cannot imagine why they ever built a station at Tottlepot. Nobody ever +wants to stop at Tottlepot, there is no trade at Tottlepot—indeed, +nobody ought to be allowed to stop at Tottlepot; and Tottlepot as a +Station ought to be forthwith disestablished and erased from the railway +map of Great Britain. If I had left the train at Jigby Junction, I +should not have lost my portmanteau, I could have hired a fly, and +should by this time have been quietly lunching at Clewmere Court instead +of pacing up and down the Tottlepot platform like a wild beast in his +den.</p> + +<p>I have often waited at stations before. Every kind of station, little +and big, all over the Continent and England, and have generally found +that waiting productive of considerable amusement. But Tottlepot is +quite a different thing. I think it was Albert Smith who once spoke of +the depth of dulness being achieved by "spending a wet Sunday, all by +yourself, in a hack cab in the middle of Salisbury Plain." Had he been +compelled to wait on a fine Thursday at Tottlepot he would have +discovered a depth yet lower. The only thing in my favour is, it is +fine. If it were wet I cannot imagine what I should do. There is a small +room I see labelled "Waiting-Room." It is about the size of a +bathing-machine and half filled with parcels and bandboxes. If you had +to wait there you would be compelled to sit with your legs right across +the down platform; the only use of that waiting-room would be to keep +your hat dry.</p> + +<p>There is not a refreshment room, there is not even a book-stall. I cannot +even cheer myself with an ancient bath bun, a glass of cloudy beer, or +two penny-worth of acidulated drops. (If there happened to be a +refreshment room at Tottlepot that is exactly the kind of refreshment +they would give you). Neither can I pass away the time by purchasing a +penny paper, and taking a free read of all the novels and publications +awaiting purchasers. There are no advertisements, no lovely oil +paintings of sea-side resorts, which are all the more charming from +being not the least like the place they are supposed to represent; there +are no bills of entertainments; no auctioneers' and house-agents' +notices; no posters concerning hotels, nor glass-cases containing +photographic specimens. It is just the place for Mark Tapley to come to +as station-master. And he, with all his power of being jolly under the +most disadvantageous circumstances, would probably be found under the +wheels of a passing express within a fortnight.</p> + +<p>And talking about the station-master reminds me I have not<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span> yet seen +him. Possibly my friend, the Faded Misanthrope in corduroys, is +station-master. If so, he has to clean the lamps, send telegrams, take +and issue tickets, look after the baggage, attend to the signals, +cultivate his garden, pay visits to the Crackleton Arms, and superintend +the traffic of the station generally. I do not wonder at his appearing +to be somewhat depressed. The only thing of a lively nature I see about +the place is a fine black cat, with enormous green eyes, which might be +utilised as "caution" signals when the porter, in consequence of his +multifarious duties, was unable to reach the signal-box. This cat was +evidently very much pleased to see me indeed. It followed me up and down +the platform like a dog, and it purred like a saw-pit in full work.</p> + +<p>A very tiny pale governess, with two big bouncing rosy girls, in the +highest of spirits, the shortest of petticoats and the longest of hair, +cross the line. I fancy those young ladies are daughters of the Vicar, +and I may meet their excellent mamma at dinner to-night. The governess +passes demurely through the side wicket. One of her charges tries to do +a sort of Blondin feat by walking along the glistening iron rail and +falls down; the eldest boldly clambers over the five-barred gate and +shows a shapely pair of legs, clad in sable hose and snow-white frilled +pantalettes. "What did I tell you, Lil?" says the governess in the +mildest voice to the first. "Very well, Gil, wait till we get home!" she +remarks in yet sweeter tones to the second. The two children rejoin her +at once and take her hand, and disappear down the lane. I am left to +wonder how she acquires this influence over them, for they are as tall +as she is and infinitely stronger—they could eat her, were they so +minded. I wonder too what will happen to Gil when they get home? Will +mamma be told? No, I fancy this mild little governess is quite equal to +controlling, unaided, these big bouncing girls.</p> + +<p>My friend the porter has by this time got through a quantity of business +of a varied nature, and is enjoying a little light relaxation by digging +violently in his garden. He has taken off his jacket, and a good deal of +his depression seems to have been removed at the same time—it <i>must</i> be +depressing to be compelled to reside in a somewhat tight corduroy jacket +all your life—and as he digs he hums to himself a sort of merry dirge. +I endeavour to enter into the spirit of the thing, and sympathise with +him in his relaxation. I say cheerfully, as if I knew all about it, "Ah! +nice fine weather for the——!" I cannot for the life of me think what +it is nice fine weather for. My friend says, "Eh?" I observe he is not +so respectful in his private as in his porterial capacity. I reply, +"Quite so!" whereupon he rejoins, "Ha! but we could do wi' a bit o' rain +for the——." Cannot catch remainder of his sentence; but I never yet +met a gardener who couldn't "do wi' a bit o' rain" for something or +other.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</a></span></p> + +<p>We begin to be quite voluble on the subject of plants and crops. I find +he knows so much more on the subject than I do, but I merely nod my head +and smile weakly and presently move quietly away. When I reach the other +end of the platform I hear the sharp jingle of the telegraph bell and +the jerk of the signal levers. Presently a very prim and neat +station-master appears, who looks as if he had just been turned out of +one of the band-boxes in the waiting room. There is also a very active +boy porter, who is apparently trying to run over the station-master with +a truck. My old friend is walking slowly along the platform. He has left +the gay horticulturist in the garden, and has assumed the Faded +Misanthrope with his corduroy jacket. He tells me that the train is now +coming—the one that will bring my portmanteau. The train presently +stops; a few dazed agriculturists, and a very stout fussy old lady, +half-a-dozen milk cans, and my portmanteau are put out.</p> + +<p>I am gazing at the latter to be quite sure it is my own, when I hear +myself addressed by name. I turn round and see a smart groom whose face +I know well. "Anything else beside the portmanteau, sir?" he says, +touching his hat. "Sir Charles is outside with the waggonette; the new +pair is a little bit fresh, and he don't like to leave 'em."</p> + +<p>That is all right. I think to myself I shall dine at Clewmere after all.</p> + +<p class="blockquot">(<i>By permission of the Author.</i>)</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 80%;" /> +<h2><a name="MARRIED_TO_A_GIANTESS" id="MARRIED_TO_A_GIANTESS"></a>MARRIED TO A GIANTESS.</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">Walter Parke.</span></h3> + +<p>I loved her with all my heart, and, indeed, it took all my heart to +accomplish the feat; for, in sooth, there was a great deal—a very great +deal—of her to love. Although only "sweet seventeen," she had reached +the commanding stature of nine feet nine inches, and, to use the words +of a familiar advertisement, she was "still growing."</p> + +<p>From my childhood I had doated on the gigantic, loved the lofty, admired +the massive, and had a weakness for strength. The tales I best loved +were those of giants.</p> + +<p>Can you wonder, then, that when I heard that the celebrated Samothracian +Giantess, Goliathina Immensikoff, from the wilds of Wallachia, the +largest woman in the world, was approaching London, my soul was stirred +by the news as by a trumpet-call?<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span> I read with the deepest interest the +accounts of her antecedents. I learnt how she was discovered in the +Wilds of Wallachia by Whiteley, the World's Provider, who had "taken her +from the bosom of her family"—and here I could not help exclaiming, +"What a stupendous 'bosom' that 'family' must have had!"</p> + +<p>As I reclined on my sofa, smoking the largest possible meerschaum, and +reading with absorbing interest these accounts of one who was certainly +"born to greatness," I suddenly came to a terrific and almost appalling +resolve. Involuntarily I exclaimed, aloud, "She shall be mine!"</p> + +<p>Yet how could I hope for success? To win so great a being one must be +not only a lady-killer, but a giant-killer also; and though I bear a +"big" name myself—Hector Gogmagog—Nature has denied me either +extraordinary personal attractions or lofty stature. How hopeless, then, +for me to aspire to the affection of the Monumental Maiden of +Samothracia! Five feet five pitted against nine feet nine is to be +pitted indeed!</p> + +<p>But love laughs at obstacles. That evening I went to the Royal Escurial +Theatre, where Mademoiselle Goliathina was performing, and sat +enthralled to witness her impersonation of the Queen of Brobdingnag. The +pictures had not exaggerated. She was "every inch a queen"—a phrase of +some significance when the number of inches mounts up to one hundred and +seventeen.</p> + +<p>The next step was to get an introduction. This I accomplished to my +satisfaction, and though at first naturally overawed by her Leviathan +aspect, thenceforward my wooing proceeded rapidly. I had several +interviews with the colossal charmer, at which I had the satisfaction of +discovering that I was more in her eyes than some other men who were +nearer to herself in point of stature. Words of encouragement coming +from those lips, so near and yet so far away, words spoken in soft +Wallachian, yet in tones that Stentor might have envied—elevated me to +the seventh heaven of pride and delight. I already felt taller by +inches—but what was <i>that</i> to her nine feet nine?</p> + +<p>I sent her the very biggest bouquets, such as occupied a whole hansom +cab each; love letters, their weight barely covered by eight stamps; and +valentines that would only go by parcels delivery.</p> + +<p>All this had its effect. She would have been less than woman, instead of +a very great deal <i>more</i>—had she been insensible to my devotion. Can I +ever forget what the poet ecstatically calls "the first kiss of +love"—how, at considerable inconvenience to herself, she bent that +statuesque form to accommodate herself to my limited stature? That +<i>was</i>, indeed, "stooping to conquer."</p> + +<p>Yet with all this encouragement, it was in fear and trembling that I +approached the momentous question. Fancy a refusal from those lips. It +would be crushing indeed!<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Dearest Goliathina," I said, standing upon the head of the sofa, in +order to place myself upon something like her own exalted level, "say, +oh, say you will be mine. You may be sure of my lifelong devotion. You +will be all in all to me, and, in fact, much more than all; for you are +far too large to be merely my better half. I shall always make much of +you, and look up to you as one infinitely above me. Fortunately, I have +a large heart; but as you occupy it entirely, it would be perfectly +impossible for me to find room for any other object. Were you to reject +me, there would be an immeasurable void in my life, and who else is +capable of filling it?"</p> + +<p>She was evidently affected; for what the poet calls a "big round +tear"—and goodness knows <i>how</i> big round tear it was in this +case—could be perceived starting from each of her moonlike eyes. I +clasped her hand—which in point of length was a <i>foot</i>—and she did not +withdraw it.</p> + +<p>"Fondest Hector," she responded, "I am thine!"</p> + +<p>And she leant her head upon my shoulder. I staggered; but by the +exertion of all my strength I was able for some moments to sustain that +delicious burden.</p> + +<p>Our wedding took place before the Registrar, who, being of a nervous +temperament, was so overwhelmed at the towering dimensions of the bride, +that he could scarcely get through the ceremony. It was all as private +as so abnormal an affair could possibly be kept, and for a time the +famous female colossus figured no longer at the Royal Escurial as Queen +Brobdingnag, a substitute only six feet two inches having been provided.</p> + +<p>Marrying a giantess has its inconveniences. I had to have a house built +with exceptionally lofty rooms and doors ten feet high, with furniture +on a corresponding scale. An ordinary carriage was of no use to my wife, +whose size also frightened the horses; so we had a sort of triumphal car +built, drawn by a circus elephant. It was expensive, but an excellent +advertisement in a theatrical sense. She could never walk out without +being mobbed, and terrifying babies. She dared not visit a friend's +house for fear of frightening the children and destroying the furniture. +And fancy her at a dance! Moreover, our housekeeping expenses were +something frightful.</p> + +<p>Anon, darker shadows hovered around our domestic sphere. Her temper +proved to be at times uncertain. At the least attempt to thwart any of +her strange caprices, she grew infuriated; and when annoyed, she had a +way of putting me on the top of a high bookcase, or locking me up in a +cupboard, box, or trunk—for I have said all our belongings were on a +gigantic scale—which was peculiarly humiliating.</p> + +<p>About this time we became acquainted with Morlock Mastodon, Drum-Major +to his highness the Grand Duke of Samothracia. The Major, though of +small stature compared with my wife, was considered a giant by ordinary +men, being seven feet<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</a></span> ten in height. My fondness for giants rendered +him an eligible acquaintance to me. Mrs. Gogmagog naturally took to one +of her own gigantic species; and the Major was pleased to say that ours +was the only comfortable and commodious house in England—he meant the +only one in which the doors were ten feet high, and the chair-seats four +feet from the ground. Anyhow, he soon made himself at home with us—too +<i>much</i> at home, as I couldn't help thinking. I didn't mind him and my +wife being good friends; but when, in their gigantic loftiness, they +seemed to overlook me altogether, I began to entertain natural feelings +of jealousy. Besides, the Major owed me money—large sums in proportion +to his size, which he had borrowed under the obviously false pretence +that he was "<i>very short</i> just now;" and he seemed in no hurry to pay it +back. What could I do? It was rather a risky thing to expostulate with a +man of seven feet ten; and to turn him out of the house would have been +a task altogether beyond my physical strength. At all events I could +resolve that he should never enter it again; and I gave strict +injunctions that always in future when Major Mastodon called there was +to be "nobody at home."</p> + +<p>Moreover, I actually summoned up courage to tell my wife of my +resolution, and even to remonstrate with her upon her own demeanour +towards the gallant and gigantic Major. Then she got into a rage. And +<i>such</i> a rage! Heavens! what had I done? What would become of me? I was +as one who had called down upon his devoted head the wrath of the gods +or of the Titans.</p> + +<p>She drew herself up to her full height of nearly ten feet, her eyes +glared like those of a demoniac, and grasping my arm in her Herculean +clutch, she lifted me bodily from the ground.</p> + +<p>"Hands off!" I exclaimed, struggling. "Hit one your own size!"</p> + +<p>"<i>My</i> own size!" she thundered, in a <i>contralto profundo</i> voice that +shook the very roof. "Where am I to find 'em? The only person +approximating to my own size you have forbidden the house. You—<i>you</i> +dare try and control my actions—you, whom I could crush like a +blue-bottle—attempt to dictate to <i>me</i>! I will stand this no longer. +You have offended me once too often. You die!"</p> + +<p>"Beware, fearful female!" I gasped. "Colossal as you are, the arm of the +law is still longer and even stronger than yours. Kill me, and you will +assuredly die for it!"</p> + +<p>She gave a laugh of scorn.</p> + +<p>"Me?" she cried. "Do you believe they would hang <i>me</i>? No; I am above +all laws, and I have sworn that you shall die!"</p> + +<p>And in spite of my struggles she flung me, as easily as if I had been a +doll, right out of the third storey window. Down I fell, down, down, +till I—</p> + +<p>—— found myself on the floor. I had tumbled off the sofa, and so +awakened from my terrific dream. Heavens! what a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</a></span> relief to find that +after all I was <i>not</i> married to a giantess, that it was all a vision +due to my falling asleep over the advertisement, and that Mdlle. +Goliathina was but a gigantic nightmare.</p> + +<p class="blockquot">(<i>By permission of the Author.</i>)</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 80%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_VISION_OF_THE_ALDERMAN" id="THE_VISION_OF_THE_ALDERMAN"></a>THE VISION OF THE ALDERMAN.</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">Henry S. Leigh.</span></h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">An Alderman sat at a festive board,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Quaffing the blood-red wine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And many a Bacchanal stave outpour'd<br /></span> +<span class="i1">In praise of the fruitful vine.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Turtle and salmon and Strasbourg pie<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Pippins and cheese were there;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the bibulous Alderman wink'd his eye,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">For the sherris was old and rare.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But a cloud came o'er his gaze eftsoons,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And his wicked old orbs grew dim;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then drink turn'd each of the silver spoons<br /></span> +<span class="i1">To a couple of spoons for <i>him</i>.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He bow'd his head at the festive board,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">By the gaslight's dazzling gleam:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He bow'd his head and he slept and snor'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And he dream'd a fearful dream.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Far, carried away on the wings of Sleep,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">His spirit was onward borne,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till he saw vast holiday crowds in Chepe<br /></span> +<span class="i1">On a ninth November morn.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Guns were booming and bells ding-dong'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Ethiop minstrels play'd;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And still, wherever the burghers throng'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Brisk jongleurs drove their trade.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Scarlet Sheriffs, the City's pride,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">With a portly presence fill'd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The whole of the courtyard just outside<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The hall of their ancient Guild.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And in front of the central gateway there,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">A marvellous chariot roll'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">(Like gingerbread at a country fair<br /></span> +<span class="i1">'Twas cover'd with blazing gold).<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</a></span></div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And a being, array'd in pomp and pride<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Was brought to the big stone gate;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And they begg'd that being to mount and ride<br /></span> +<span class="i1">In that elegant coach of state.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But, oh! he was fat, so ghastly fat,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Was that being of pomp and pride,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That, in spite of many attempts thereat,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">He <i>couldn't</i> be pushed inside.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">That being was press'd, but press'd in vain,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Till the drops bedew'd his cheek;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The gilded vehicle rock'd again,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And the springs began to creak.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The slumbering alderman groan'd a groan,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">For a vision he seem'd to trace,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Some horrible semblance to <i>his own</i><br /></span> +<span class="i1">In that being's purple face.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And, "Oh!" he cried, as he started up;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">"Sooner than come to <i>that</i>,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Farewell for ever the baneful cup<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And the noxious turtle fat!"—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They carried him up the winding-stair;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">They laid him upon the bed;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And they left him, sleeping the sleep of care,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">With an ache in his nightcapp'd head.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="blockquot">(<i>By permission of</i> <span class="smcap">Messrs. Chatto & Windus</span>.)</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 80%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_DEMON_SNUFFERS" id="THE_DEMON_SNUFFERS"></a>THE DEMON SNUFFERS.</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">Geo. Manville Fenn.</span></h3> + +<p>I'm not at all given to parading my troubles—nothing of the +kind. I may be getting old, in fact, I am; and I may have +had disappointments such as have left me slightly irritable and +peevish; but I ask, as a man, who wouldn't be troubled in his +nerves if he had suffered from snuffers?</p> + +<p>Snuffers? Yes—snuffers—a pair of cheap, black, iron snuffers, +that screech when they are opened, and creak when they are +shut; a pair that will not stay open, nor yet keep shut; a pair +that gape at you incessantly, and point at you a horrid sharp<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span> +iron beak, as a couple of leering eyes turn the finger and thumb +holes into a pair of spectacles, and squint and wink at you +maliciously. A word in your ear—this in a whisper—those +snuffers are haunted! their insignificant iron frame is the +habitation of a demon—an imp of darkness; and I've been +troubled till I've got snuffers on the brain, and I shall have +them till I'm snuffed out.</p> + +<p>It has been going on now for a couple of years, ever since +my landlady sent the snuffers up to me first in my shiney +crockery-ware candlestick, where those snuffers glide about +like a snake in a tin pail. I remember the first night as well +as can be. It was in November—a weird, wet, foggy night, +when the river-side streets were wrapped in a yellow blanket +of fog—and I was going to bed, when, at my first touch of the +candlestick, those snuffers glided off with an angry snap, and +lay, open-mouthed, glaring at me from the floor.</p> + +<p>I was somewhat startled, certainly, but far from alarmed; +and I seized the fugitives and replaced them in the candlestick, +opened the door, and ascended the stairs.</p> + +<p>Mind, I am only recording facts untinged by the pen of +romance! Before I had ascended four steps, those hideous +snuffers darted off, and plunged, point downwards, on to my +left slippered foot, causing me an agonising pang, and the next +moment a bead of starting blood stained my stocking.</p> + +<p>I will not declare this, but I believe it to be a fact: as I +said something oathish, I am nearly certain that I heard a +low, fiendish chuckle; and when I stooped to lift the snuffers, +there was a bright spark in the open mouth, and a pungent +blue smoke breathed out to annoy my nostrils!</p> + +<p>I was too bold in those days to take much notice of the +incident, and I hurried upstairs—not, however, without seeing +that there was a foul, black patch left upon my holland stair-cloth; +and then I hurried into bed, and tried to sleep. But I +could not, try as I would. In the darkness I could just make +out the candlestick against the blind: and from that point +incessantly the demon snuffers gradually approached me, till +they sat spectacle-wise astride my nose, and a pair of burning +eyes gazed through them right into mine.</p> + +<p>Need I say that I arose next morning feverish and unrefreshed +to go about my daily duties?</p> + +<p>"I'll have no more of it to-night," I said to myself, as I rose +early to go to bed and make up for the past bad night; and I +smiled sardonically as I took up the highly-glazed candlestick +and tried to shake the black, straddling reptile out upon the +sideboard. I say <i>tried</i>; for, to my horror, the great eyeholes +leered at me as they hugged round the upright portion of the +stick and refused to be dislodged. I shook them again, and +one part went round the extinguisher support, which the reptile +dislodged, so that the extinguisher rattled upon the sideboard<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span> +top. But the snuffers were there still. I tried again, and +they, or it, dodged round and thrust a head through the handle, +where they stuck fast, grinning at me till I set the candlestick +down and stared.</p> + +<p>"Pooh!—stuff!—ridiculous!" I exclaimed, quite angry at +my weak, imaginative folly; and, determined to act like a man, +I seized the candlestick with one hand, the snuffers with the +other, and, after a hard fight, succeeded in wriggling them out +of their stronghold, banged them down upon the table cloth, +seized them again, snuffed my candle viciously before replacing +them on the table, and then marched out of the room, proud of +my moral triumph, and rejoicing in having freed myself of the +demon. But, as I stood upon the stairs, I could see that my +hand was blackened; and the icy, galvanic feeling that assailed +my nerves when I first touched the snuffers still tingled right +to my elbow.</p> + +<p>But I was free of my enemy; and marching with freely +playing lungs into my bedroom, I closed and locked the door, +set down my empty candlestick, changed my coat and vest for +a dressing-gown and began to brush my hair.</p> + +<p>It is my custom to brush my hair with a pair of brushes for +ten minutes every night before retiring to rest. I find it +strengthening to the brain. Upon this occasion I had brushed +hard for five minutes, when there was a loud knock at my +bed-room door.</p> + +<p>"Can I speak to you a moment, sir?" said the voice of my +landlady.</p> + +<p>I rose and opened the door, and then started back in disgust, +as I was greeted with—</p> + +<p>"Please, sir, you forgot your snuffers!"</p> + +<p>My snuffers! It was too horrible; but there was more to +bear.</p> + +<p>"And please, sir, I do hope you'll be more careful. It's a +mussy we warn't all burnt to death in our beds, for the snuffers +have made a great hole as big as your hand in the tablecloth, +and scorched the mahogany table; and it was a mussy I went +into your room before I went up to bed."</p> + +<p>I couldn't speak, for I was drawn irresistibly on to obey, as +my landlady held the snuffers-handle towards me, and pointed +to the fungus snuff upon the common candle. I thrust in a +finger and thumb, closed the door in desperation—for I could +not refuse the snuffers—once more locked myself in, and stalked +to the dressing-table; and, as I heard my landlady's retreating +steps, I snuffed the candle, which started up instantly with a +brighter flame, as the snuffers' mouth closed upon the incandescent +wick.</p> + +<p>"I'm slightly nervous," I said to myself, as I essayed to put +down my enemies. "I want tone—iron—iodine—tonic bitters—and—curse +the thing!" I ejaculated, shaking my hand and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</a></span> +trying to dislodge the snuffers. My efforts were but vain, for +the rings clung tightly to my finger and thumb, cut into my +flesh, and it was not until I had given them a frantic wrench, +which broke the rivet and separated the halves, that I was able +to tear out my bruised digits, and stand, panting, at the broken +instrument.</p> + +<p>There was relief, though, here. I felt as if I had crushed +out the reptile's life; and the two pieces—their living identity +gone—lay nerveless, and devoid of terrors, in the candle tray.</p> + +<p>I slept excellently that night, and smiled as I dressed beside +the broken fragments. I had achieved a victory over self, as well +as over an enemy. I enjoyed my breakfast, after raising the +white cloth to look at the damage, which I knew would appear +as twenty shillings in the weekly bill; but I did not care, +though I shuddered slightly as I thought of the snuffers' +horrible designs. I dined that day with friends, played a few +games afterwards at pool, and then we had oysters.</p> + +<p>I was in the best of spirits as I opened the door with my +latchkey, and I laughed heartily at what I called my folly of +the previous nights; but, as I entered my room, there was the +great black hole in the green cloth table cover, and the charred +wood beneath, while, upon the sideboard——</p> + +<p>I groaned as I stood, half transfixed. I could have imagined +that I had on divers leaden-soled boots; for there, maliciously +grinning at me with half-opened mouth, were the demon +snuffers, joined together by a new, glistening rivet, which only +added to their weird appearance, as the beak cocked itself at +me, and the great eyes glared, as the black mouth seemed to +say—</p> + +<p>"You'll never get rid of me!"</p> + +<p>Something seemed to draw me, and I went and took the +candlestick, my eyes being fixed the while upon the snuffers; +and I came in contact with several pieces of furniture as I +went into the passage, where I held the candlestick very much +on one side as I lit the candle at the little lamp. I hoped +that the snuffers would fall out; but they grinned maliciously, +and did not stir.</p> + +<p>The next moment I was obliged to use them, for the candle +began to gutter; when, as nothing followed, I grew bolder, +and began to ascend the stairs. In a minute, though before I +was half way up the second flight, and though the candlestick +was carried perfectly straight—crash! the demon snuffers +darted out, and dashed themselves upon the floor.</p> + +<p>I did not stay to look, but hurried to my bed-room, closing +and locking the door.</p> + +<p>"Safe this time!" I thought; for it was late, and I knew +that my landlady must have been long in bed. Then I began +to think of how they had hopped out of the candlestick, and I +remembered what they had done on the previous night—how<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</a></span> +they had tried to set fire to the house. Suppose they should do +so now? The cold perspiration trickled down my nose at the +very thought. I dared not leave the demon, or twin demons—the +horrid Siamese pair.</p> + +<p>I would, though—I was safe here. But, fire! Suppose they +set the house on fire?</p> + +<p>Down I went in the dark—very softly, too, lest I should alarm +the landlady and the other lodgers; but, though the odour was +strong, I went right to the bottom, and stood upon the door-mat +without finding my enemies.</p> + +<p>I stood and thought for a few minutes, and then began slowly +to ascend, feeling carefully all over every step as I went up to +my bed-room, where I arrived, without ever my hand coming +in contact with that which I sought.</p> + +<p>"I'll go to bed and leave them!" I ejaculated, and I turned +upon my heel; but, at that moment, the pungent burning odour +came up stronger than ever, and I was compelled to descend, to +find that the demon twins had been lying in ambush half-way +down, so that I trod upon them, tripped, in my terror my foot +glided, over them, and I fell with a crash into the umbrella stand, +which I upset with a hideous noise upon the oilcloth—not so loud, +though, but that I could hear the little black imps take three +or four grasshopper leaps along the passage, ending by sticking +the pointed beak into the street door.</p> + +<p>Before I could gather myself up, I heard doors opening +upstairs, and screaming from the girls below who slept in the +kitchen; and the next minute old Major O'Brien's voice came +roaring down—</p> + +<p>"An' if ye shtir a shtep I'll blow out yer brains!"</p> + +<p>Of course I had to explain; and I had the horrible knowledge +that they gave me the credit of being intoxicated—the Major +saying he would not stop in a house where people went prowling +about at all hours, ending by himself, at the landlady's request, +examining the door to see if it was latched securely, and then +seeing me safely to my room.</p> + +<p>"An' if I did me duty, sor, I should lock you in," he said by +way of good night. "And now get into bed, sor, and at once; +and—here are your snuffers!"</p> + +<p>I could fill volumes with the tortures inflicted upon me by +those haunted snuffers, for they clung to me, and in spite of +every effort never left me free. It was in vain that I came +home early and shifted them into the Major's candlestick: they +only came back. I threw them out of the bedroom window once, +and they were found by the maid in the area. I threw them out +again, and they were picked up by the policeman, and they +made him bring them back. Then I tried it at midday; but +an old woman brought them in, and made a row because they +went through her parasol, so that I had to pay ten shillings, +besides being looked upon by my landlady as a lunatic.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</a></span></p> + +<p>I thrust them into the fire one night, and held them there +with the tongs, lest they should leap out; but they would not +burn, and my landlady, finding them in the ashes, had them +japanned, and they were in their old place next day. I had no +better luck when I thrust them—buried them—deep in a scuttle +of ashes; they only turned up out of the dusthole when Mary +sifted the cinders.</p> + +<p>They always came off black on to my hands when they did +not anoint my fingers with soft tallow. If they fell out of the +candlestick, it was always on to oilcloth or paint, where they +could make a noise jumping about like a grasshopper, till they +ended by standing upon the sharp beak, with the spectacle-like +holes in the air. If I went up to dress, they would shoot into +my collar-box, or amongst my clean shirts, smutting them all +over. If I tried to kill a wasp with them upon an autumn +evening, when the insect crept out of a plum at dessert, the +wretches only snipped him in two, as if rejoicing at the inflicted +torture. In short, they have worn me out—those snuffers; +and, if it was not from fear, I should take and drop them from +the parapet of a bridge.</p> + +<p>But, there! it would be in vain; they would be certain to +turn up; and they are not mortal, so what can you expect? +Let this communication be a secret, for it is written wholly by +day, when the snuffers lie in the lower regions.</p> + +<p>A bright thought has occurred to me—the Major leaves this +morning for Berlin.</p> + +<hr style='width: 25%;' /> + +<p>I have done it—his carpet bag stood in the hall, waiting +for the cab. The Major was in the drawing-room paying his +bill. The maids were upstairs making the beds. I stole down, +like a thief, into the kitchen. The snuffers were in my dirty +candlestick upon the dresser. I seized the grinning, tallow-anointed +demons, flew up the stairs, and, as I heard the drawing-room +door open, tore the bag a little apart, and thrust them in. +The next minute they were on the roof of a cab, and on their +way to Berlin, where they will haunt the Major.</p> + +<hr style='width: 25%;' /> + +<p>A month of uninterrupted joy has passed. On the day of +the Major's departure I seemed to wed pleasure; and this has +been the honeymoon. This morning, when I paid my bill, the +landlady announced the coming back of the Major to his old +apartments. I have been in dread ever since. But this is +folly. I will be hopeful: my worst fears may not be confirmed.</p> + +<hr style='width: 25%;' /> + +<p>It's all over—he has brought them back!</p> + +<p>They grin at me as I write.</p> + +<p class="blockquot">(<i>By permission of the Author.</i>)</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 80%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="THE_WALRUS_AND_THE_CARPENTER" id="THE_WALRUS_AND_THE_CARPENTER"></a>THE WALRUS AND THE CARPENTER.</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">Lewis Carroll.</span></h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The sun was shining on the sea,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Shining with all his might;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He did his very best to make<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The billows smooth and bright—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And this was odd, because it was<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The middle of the night.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The moon was shining sulkily,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Because she thought the sun<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Had got no business to be there<br /></span> +<span class="i1">After the day was done.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"It's very rude of him," she said,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">"To come and spoil the fun."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The sea was wet as wet could be,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The sands were dry as dry.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You could not see a cloud, because<br /></span> +<span class="i1">No cloud was in the sky:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No birds were flying over-head—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">There were no birds to fly.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The Walrus and the Carpenter<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Were walking close at hand;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They wept like anything to see<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Such quantities of sand:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"If this were only cleared away,"<br /></span> +<span class="i1">They said, "It <i>would</i> be grand!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"If seven maids, with seven mops,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Swept it for half a year,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Do you suppose," the Walrus said,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">"That they could get it clear?"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"I doubt it," said the Carpenter,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And shed a bitter tear.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O, Oysters, come and walk with us!"<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The Walrus did beseech.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"A pleasant walk, a pleasant talk,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Along the briny beach:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We cannot do with more than four,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">To give a hand to each."<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</a></span></div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The eldest Oyster looked at him,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">But never a word he said:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The eldest Oyster winked his eye,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And shook his heavy head—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Meaning to say he did not choose<br /></span> +<span class="i1">To leave the oyster-bed.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But four young Oysters hurried up,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">All eager for the treat:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Their coats were brushed, their faces washed,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Their shoes were clean and neat—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And this was odd, because, you know,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">They hadn't any feet.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Four other Oysters followed them,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And yet another four;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And thick and fast they came at last,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And more, and more, and more—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All hopping through the frothy waves,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And scrambling to the shore.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The Walrus and the Carpenter<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Walked on a mile or so,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And then they rested on a rock<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Conveniently low:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And all the little Oysters stood<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And waited in a row.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"The time has come," the Walrus said,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">"To talk of many things:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of shoes—and ships—and sealing-wax—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of cabbages—and kings—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And why the sea is boiling hot—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And whether pigs have wings."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"But wait a bit," the Oysters cried,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">"Before we have our chat;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For some of us are out of breath,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And all of us are fat!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"No hurry," said the Carpenter:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">They thanked him much for that.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"A loaf of bread," the Walrus said,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">"Is what we chiefly need:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pepper and vinegar besides<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Are very good indeed—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now, if you're ready, Oysters dear,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">We can begin to feed."<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</a></span></div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"But not on us," the Oysters cried,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Turning a little blue.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"After such kindness, that would be<br /></span> +<span class="i1">A dismal thing to do!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"The night is fine," the Walrus said.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">"Do you admire the view?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"It was so kind of you to come,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And you are very nice!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Carpenter said nothing but<br /></span> +<span class="i1">"Cut us another slice:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I wish you were not quite so deaf—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">I've had to ask you twice!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"It seems a shame," the Walrus said,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">"To play them such a trick,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">After we've brought them out so far,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And made them trot so quick!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Carpenter said nothing but<br /></span> +<span class="i1">"The butter's spread too thick!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I weep for you," the Walrus said:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">"I deeply sympathize."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With sobs and tears he sorted out<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Those of the largest size,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Holding his pocket-handkerchief<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Before his streaming eyes.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O, Oysters," said the Carpenter,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">"You've had a pleasant run!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shall we be trotting home again?"<br /></span> +<span class="i1">But answer came there none—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And this was scarcely odd, because<br /></span> +<span class="i1">They'd eaten every one.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="blockquot">(<i>By permission of the Author.</i>)</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 80%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="MY_BROTHER_HENRY" id="MY_BROTHER_HENRY"></a>MY BROTHER HENRY.</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">J. M. Barrie.</span></h3> + +<p>At first sight it may not, perhaps, seem quite the thing that I should +be hilarious because I have at last had the courage to kill my brother +Henry. For some time, however, Henry had been annoying me. Strictly +speaking, I never had a brother Henry. It is just fifteen months since I +began to acknowledge that there was such a person. It came about in this +way:—I have a friend of the name of Fenton, who, like myself, lives in +London. His house is so conveniently situated that I can go there and +back in one day. About a year and a half ago I was at Fenton's, and he +remarked that he had met a man the day before who knew my brother Henry. +Not having a brother Henry, I felt that there must be a mistake +somewhere; so I suggested that Fenton's friend had gone wrong in the +name. My only brother, I pointed out with the suavity of manner that +makes me a general favourite, was called Alexander. "Yes," said Fenton, +"but he spoke of Alexander also." Even this did not convince me that I +had a brother Henry, and I asked Fenton the name of his friend. +Scudamour was the name, and the gentleman had met my brothers Alexander +and Henry some six years previously in Paris. When I heard this I +probably frowned; for then I knew who my brother Henry was. Strange +though it may seem, I was my own brother Henry. I distinctly remembered +meeting this man Scudamour at Paris during the time that Alexander and I +were there for a week's pleasure, and quarrelled every day. I explained +this to Fenton; and there, for the time being, the matter rested. I had, +however, by no means heard the last of Henry. Several times afterwards I +heard from various persons that Scudamour wanted to meet me because he +knew my brother Henry. At last we did meet, at a Bohemian supper-party +in Furnival's Inn; and, almost as soon as he saw me, Scudamour asked +where Henry was now. This was precisely what I feared. I am a man who +always looks like a boy. There are few persons of my age in London who +retain their boyish appearance as long as I have done; indeed, this is +the curse of my life. Though I am approaching the age of thirty, I pass +for twenty; and I have observed old gentlemen frown at my precocity when +I said a good thing or helped myself to a second glass of wine. There +was, therefore, nothing surprising in Scudamour's remark that, when he +had the pleasure of meeting Henry, Henry must have been about the age +that I had now reached. All would have been well had I explained the +real state of affairs to this annoying man; but, unfortunately for +myself, I loathe entering upon explanations<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</a></span> to anybody about anything. +When I ring for my boots and my servant thinks I want a glass of water, +I drink the water and remain indoors. Much, then, did I dread a +discussion with Scudamour, his surprise when he heard that I was Henry +(my Christian name is Thomas), and his comments on my youthful +appearance. Besides, I was at that moment carving a tough fowl; and, as +I learned to carve from a handbook, I can make no progress unless I keep +muttering to myself, "Cut from A to B, taking care to pass along the +line C D, and sever the wing K from the body at the point F." There was +no likelihood of my meeting Scudamour again, so the easiest way to get +rid of him seemed to be to humour him. I therefore told him that Henry +was in India, married, and doing well. "Remember me to Henry when you +write to him," was Scudamour's last remark to me that evening. A few +weeks later someone tapped me on the shoulder in Oxford Street. It was +Scudamour. "Heard from Henry?" he asked. I said I had heard by the last +mail. "Anything particular in the letter?" I felt it would not do to say +there was nothing particular in a letter which had come all the way from +India, so I hinted that Henry had had trouble with his wife. By this I +meant that her health was bad; but he took it up in another way, and I +did not set him right. "Ah, ah!" he said, shaking his head sagaciously, +"I'm sorry to hear that. Poor Henry!" "Poor old boy!" was all I could +think of replying. "How about the children?" Scudamour asked. "Oh, the +children," I said, with what I thought presence of mind, "are coming to +England." "To stay with Alexander?" he asked; for Alexander is a married +man. My answer was that Alexander was expecting them by the middle of +next month; and eventually Scudamour went away muttering "Poor Henry!" +In a month or so we met again. "No word of Henry's getting leave of +absence?" asked Scudamour. I replied shortly that Henry had gone to live +in Bombay, and would not be home for years. He saw that I was brusque, +so what does he do but draw me aside for a quiet explanation. "I +suppose," he said, "you are annoyed because I told Fenton that Henry's +wife had run away from him. The fact is I did it for your good. You see +I happened to make a remark to Fenton about your brother Henry, and he +said that there was no such person. Of course I laughed at that, and +pointed out not only that I had the pleasure of Henry's acquaintance, +but that you and I had a talk about the old fellow every time we met. +'Well,' Fenton said, 'this is a most remarkable thing; for Tom,' meaning +you, 'said to me in this very room, sitting in that very chair, that +Alexander was his only brother.' I saw that Fenton resented your +concealing the existence of your brother Henry from him, so I thought +the most friendly thing I could do was to tell him that your reticence +was doubtless due to the fact that Henry's private affairs were +troubling you.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</a></span> Naturally, in the circumstances, you did not want to +talk about Henry." I shook Scudamour by the hand, telling him that he +had acted judiciously; but if I could have stabbed him quietly at that +moment I dare say I should have done it. I did not see Scudamour again +for a long time, for I took care to keep out of his way; but I heard +first from him and then of him. One day he wrote to me saying that his +nephew was going to Bombay, and would I be so good as to give the youth +an introduction to my brother Henry? He also asked me to dine with him +and his nephew. I declined the dinner, but I sent the nephew the +required note of introduction to Henry. The next I heard of Scudamour +was from Fenton. "By the way," said Fenton, "Scudamour is in Edinburgh +at present." I trembled, for Edinburgh is where Alexander lives. "What +has taken him there?" I asked, with assumed carelessness. Fenton +believed it was business; "but," he added, "Scudamour asked me to tell +you that he meant to call on Alexander, as he was anxious to see Henry's +children." A few days afterwards I had a telegram from Alexander, who +generally uses this means of communication when he corresponds with me. +"Do you know a man Scudamour? reply," was what Alexander said. I thought +of answering that we had met a man of that name when we were in Paris; +but, on the whole, replied boldly: "Know no one of the name of +Scudamour." About two months ago I passed Scudamour in Regent Street, +and he did not recognise me. This I could have borne if there had been +no more of Henry; but I knew that Scudamour was now telling everybody +about Henry's wife. By-and-by I got a letter from an old friend of +Alexander's, asking me if there was any truth in a report that Alexander +was going to Bombay. Soon afterwards Alexander wrote to me to say that +he had been told by several persons that I was going to Bombay. In +short, I saw that the time had come for killing Henry. So I told Fenton +that Henry had died of fever, deeply regretted; and asked him to be sure +to tell Scudamour, who had always been interested in the deceased's +welfare. The other day Fenton told me that he had communicated the sad +intelligence to Scudamour. "How did he take it?" I asked. "Well," Fenton +said, reluctantly, "he told me that when he was up in Edinburgh he did +not get on well with Alexander; but he expressed great curiosity as to +Henry's children." "Ah," I said, "the children were both drowned in the +Forth; a sad affair—we can't bear to talk of it." I am not likely to +see much of Scudamour again, nor is Alexander. Scudamour now goes about +saying that Henry was the only one of us he really liked.</p> + +<p class="blockquot">(<i>By permission of the Author.</i>)</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 80%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="A_NIGHT_WITH_A_STORK" id="A_NIGHT_WITH_A_STORK"></a>A NIGHT WITH A STORK.</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">W. E. Wilcox.</span></h3> + +<p>Four individuals—namely, my wife, my infant son, my maid-of-all work, +and myself—occupy one of a row of very small houses in the suburbs of +London. I am a thoroughly domestic man, and notwithstanding that my +occupation necessitates absence from my mansion between the hours of 9 +a.m. and 5 p.m., my heart is generally at home, with my diminutive +household. My wife, and I, love regularity and quiet above all things; +and although, since the arrival of my son, and heir, we had not enjoyed +that peace which we did during the first year of our married life, yet +his juvenile, though somewhat powerful, little lungs, had as yet failed +in making ours a noisy house. Our regularity had, moreover, remained +undisturbed, and we got up, went to bed, dined, breakfasted, and took +tea at the same time, day after day.</p> + +<p>We had been going on in this clockwork fashion for a year and a half, +when one morning the postman brought to our door a letter of ominous +appearance, and on looking at the direction, I found that it came from +an old, rich, and very eccentric uncle of mine, with whom, for certain +reasons, we wished to remain on the best of terms. "What can uncle +Martin have to write about?" was our simultaneous exclamation, and I +opened it with considerable curiosity.</p> + +<div class="pblockquot"> +<p style='text-align: right'>"<span class="smcap">Martin House</span>, <span class="smcap">Herts</span>, <i>Oct.</i> 17, 18—.</p> +<p>"<span class="smcap">Dear Nephew</span>,—</p> + +<p> "You may perhaps have heard that I am forming an aviary here. A friend +in Rotterdam has written to me to say that he has sent by the boat, +which will arrive in London to-morrow afternoon, a very intelligent +parrot and a fine stork. As the vessel arrives too late for them to be +sent on the same night, I shall be obliged by your taking the birds +home, and forwarding them to me the next morning.—With my respects to +your good lady,</p> + +<p style='text-align: right'> +"I remain your affectionate uncle, <br /> +"<span class="smcap">Ralph Martin</span>."<br /> +</p></div> + +<p>I said nothing, but got a book on natural history, and turned to +"Stork." With trembling fingers I passed over the fact of "his hind toe +being short, the middle too long, and joined to the outer one by a large +membrane, and by a smaller one to the inner toe," because that would not +matter much for one night; but I groaned out to my wife the pleasant +intelligence that "his height is four feet, his appetite extremely +voracious," and "his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</a></span> food—frogs, mice, worms, snails, and eels." Where +were we to provide a supper and breakfast of this description for him?</p> + +<p>I went to my office, and passed anything but a pleasant day, my thoughts +constantly reverting to our expected visitors. At four o'clock I took a +cab to the docks, and on arriving there, inquired for the ship, which +was pointed out to me as "the one with the crowd upon the quay." On +driving up, I discovered why there was a crowd, and the discovery did +not bring comfort with it. On the deck, on one leg, stood the stork. +Whether it was the sea-voyage, or the leaving his home, or, being a +stork of high moral principle, he was grieving at the continual, and +rather joyous and exulting swearing of the parrot, I do not know, but I +never saw a more melancholy looking object in my life.</p> + +<p>I went down on the deck, and did not like the expression of relief that +came over the captain's face when he found what I had come for. The +transmission of the parrot from the ship to the cab was an easy matter, +as he was in a cage, but the stork was merely tethered by one leg; and +although he did his best, when brought to the foot of the ladder, in +trying to get up, he failed utterly, and had to be half-shoved, +half-hauled, all the way—which, as he got astride, after the manner of +equestrians, on every other bar, was a work of some difficulty. I +hurried him into the cab, and ordering the man to drive as quickly as +possible, got in with my guests. At first, I had to keep dodging my head +about, to keep my face away from his bill as he turned round; but all of +a sudden he broke the little window at the back of the cab, thrust his +head through, and would keep it there, notwithstanding I kept pulling +him back. Consequently, when we drew up at my door, there was a mob of +about a thousand strong around us. I got him in as well as I could, and +shut the door.</p> + +<p>How can I describe the spending of that evening? how can I get +sufficient power out of the English language to let you know what a +nuisance that bird was to us? How can I tell you the cool manner in +which he inspected our domestic arrangements?—walking slowly into +rooms, and standing on one leg until his curiosity was satisfied; the +expression of wretchedness that he threw over his entire person when he +was tethered to the banisters, and had found out that, owing to our +limited accommodation, he was to remain in the hall all night; the way +in which he ate the snails specially provided for him, verifying to the +letter the naturalist's description of his appetite. How can you, who +have not had a stork staying with you, have any idea of the change which +came over his temper after his supper—how he pecked at everybody who +came near him; how he stood sentinel at the foot of the stairs; how my +wife and I made fruitless attempts to get past, followed by ignominious +retreats how; at last we outman[oe]uvred him by throwing a table-cloth<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</a></span> +over his head, and then rushing by him, gaining the top of the stairs +before he could disentangle himself.</p> + +<p>Added to all this, we had to endure language from that parrot which +would have disgraced a pothouse; indeed, so scurrilous did he become, +that we had to take him and lock him up in the coal-hole, where, from +fatigue, or the darkness of his bedroom, he soon swore himself to sleep.</p> + +<p>We were quite ready for rest, and the forgetfulness which, we hoped, +sleep, that "balm of hurt minds," would bring with it; but our peace was +not to last long. About 2 a.m., I was awakened by my wife, and told to +listen; I did so, and heard a sort of scrambling noise outside the door. +"What can that be?" thought I. "He has broken his string, and is coming +up stairs," said my wife; and then, remembering that the nursery door +was generally left open, she urged my immediately stopping his further +progress. "But, my dear," said I, "what am I to do in my present +defenceless state of clothing, if he should take to pecking?" My wife's +expression of the idea of my considering myself before the baby, +determined me at once, come what might, to go and do him battle. Out I +went, and sure enough there he was on the landing, resting himself, +after his unusual exertion, by tucking one leg up. He looked so subdued, +that I was about to take him by the string and lead him downstairs, when +he drew back his head, and in less time than it takes to relate, I was +back in my room, bleeding profusely from a very severe wound in my leg. +I shouted out to the nurse to shut the door, and determined to let the +infamous bird go where he liked. I bound up my leg and went to bed +again; but the thought that there was a stork wandering about the house, +prevented me from getting any more sleep. From certain sounds that we +heard, we had little doubt but that he was passing some of his time in +the cupboard where we kept our spare crockery, and an inspection the +next day confirmed this.</p> + +<p>In the morning I ventured cautiously out, and finding he was in our +spare bedroom, I shut the door upon him. I then went for a large sack, +and with the help of the table-cloth, and the boy who cleans our shoes, +we got him into it without any personal damage. I took him off in this +way to the station, and sent him and the parrot off to my uncle by the +first train.</p> + +<p>We have determined that, taking our chance about a place in my uncle's +will or not, we will never again have anything to do with any foreign +animals, however much he may ask and desire it.</p> + +<p class="blockquot">(<i>By permission of</i> <span class="smcap">Messrs. W. & R. +Chambers</span>.)</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 80%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="THE_FAITHFUL_LOVERS" id="THE_FAITHFUL_LOVERS"></a>THE FAITHFUL LOVERS.</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">F. C. Burnand.</span></h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I'd been away from her three years—about that—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And I returned to find my Mary true,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And though I'd question her, I did not doubt that<br /></span> +<span class="i1">It was unnecessary so to do.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Twas by the chimney corner we were sitting,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">"Mary," said I, "have you been always true?"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Frankly," says she, just pausing in her knitting,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">"I <i>don't</i> think I've unfaithful been to you;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But for the three years past I'll tell you what<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I've done; then say if I've been true or not.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"When first you left, my grief was uncontrollable,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Alone I mourned my miserable lot,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And all who saw me thought me inconsolable,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Till Captain Clifford came from Aldershot;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To flirt with him amused me while 'twas new,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I don't count <i>that</i> unfaithfulness. Do you?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"The next—oh! let me see—was Frankie Phipps,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">I met him at my uncle's Christmas-tide;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And 'neath the mistletoe, where lips met lips,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">He gave me his first kiss"—and here she sighed;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"We stayed six weeks at uncle's—how time flew!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I don't count <i>that</i> unfaithfulness. Do you?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Lord Cecil Fossmote, only twenty-one,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Lent me his horse. Oh, how we rode and raced!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We scoured the downs—we rode to hounds—such fun!<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And often was his arm around my waist—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That was to lift me up or down. But who<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Would count <i>that</i> as unfaithfulness? Do you?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Do you know Reggy Vere? Ah, how he sings!<br /></span> +<span class="i1">We met—'twas at a picnic. Ah, such weather!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He gave me, look, the first of these two rings,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">When we were lost in Cliefden Woods together.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ah, what a happy time we spent, we two!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I don't count <i>that</i> unfaithfulness to you.<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</a></span></div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I've yet another ring from him. D'you see<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The plain gold circlet that is shining here?"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I took her hand: "Oh, Mary! Can it be<br /></span> +<span class="i1">That you"—Quoth she, "that I am Mrs. Vere.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I don't count <i>that</i> unfaithfulness. Do you?"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"<i>No," I replied, "for I am married, too.</i>"<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="blockquot">(<i>By permission of the Author.</i>)</p> + + + + +<hr style="width: 80%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_WAIL_OF_A_BANNER-BEARER" id="THE_WAIL_OF_A_BANNER-BEARER"></a>THE WAIL OF A BANNER-BEARER.</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">Arthur Matthison.</span></h3> + +<p>Well, what if I am only a banner-bearer? There's bigger blokes than me +what begun as "supes," an' see where they've got to? <i>Why don't I get +there?</i> Cause I ain't never had the chance. You just let me get a +"speaking part" as suits me, that's all! Oh—it "<i>would be all</i>," eh? +Why—but there! you're a baby in the purfession! you are! When you've +been Capting of the Guard, and Third Noble, and a Bandit Keerousin, and +First Hancient Bard, and Fourth in the Council of Ten what listens to +Otheller, and the Mob in the Capitol, and a Harcher of Merry England, +and a Peer of France, what doesn't speak, but has to look as if he could +say a lot; when you've been all this you may talk! <i>I needn't be +offended?</i> All right, old pal; I ain't. Though I was 'urt when that +utilerty cove said as I was only a banner-bearer. "Only!" Why I should +like to know where they'd be without us—all them old spoutin' tragedy +merchants! They'd have no armies, consequently they couldn't rave at +'em, and lead 'em on to victory and things. They wouldn't 'ave no +sennits, so they'd 'ave to cut out their potent, grave, and reverent +seniors—an' that 'ud worry em. They wouldn't 'ave no hexited citizens, +and so they couldn't bury old Ceser nor praise him neither. They +couldn't strew no fields with no dead soldiers. They'd 'ave nobody to +chivy 'em when they come to the throne, or returned from the wars. They +couldn't 'ave no percessions; as for balls, and parties, and +torneymongs, why, they couldn't give 'em. And where 'ud they often be +without the "distant ollerings" behind the scenes, allus a-comin' nerer +and louder. Why, I remember a 'eavy lead one night, as had insulted his +army fearful, at rehearsal; he stops sudden, and thumps his breastplate, +and says, "'Ark, that toomult!" when there warn't no more toomult than +two flies 'ud make in a milk-jug. We jest cut off his toomult, and +quered his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</a></span> pitch, in a minnit, for the laugh come in 'ot. We're just as +much wanted as they are, make no error.</p> + +<p>Only a banner-bearer! "Only," be blow'd! Oh, don't you bother, I ain't +getting waxy. I'm only a standin' up for my purfession. What do you say? +<i>They could do without me in the modden drarmer?</i> The modden drarmer, my +boy, ain't actin'! It's nothing but "cuff-shootin'." You just has to +stand against a mankel-shelf, with your hands in Poole's pockets, and +say nothing elegantly. You don't want no chest-notes; you don't want no +action; you don't want no exsitement; you don't want no lungs, no heart, +and no brain; only lungs an' soda, heart an' potash, brain an' selzer. +Everything's dilooted, my boy, for the modden drarmer; and the old +school, an' the old kostumes 'ud bust the sides and roof too of the +swell band-boxes, where they does the new school and the new kostumes. +<i>P'r'aps I'm right?</i> Of course I'm right; and I'm in earnest, too! Why, +my boy, if they was to offer me an engagement as a "guest" in one of +them cuff-shootin' plays, and ask me to go on in evening-dress, I'm +blest if I wouldn't throw up the part. Trousers and white ties cramps +me. I wants a suit o' mail an' a 'alberd; a toonic, and my legs free; a +dagger in my teeth—not a tooth-pick; a battle-axe in my 'and—not a +crutch. I likes to be led to victory, I does. I likes to storm castles, +and trampel on the foe! I does. I likes to hang our banners on the +outward walls, I does. I'm a born banner-bearer, I am, and I glories in +it. No, my boy! none of your milk-and-water "guests," and such, for the +likes of me! An' if I was the Lord Chamberlain, I'd perhibit the modden +drarmer altogether. Them's my sentiments. If he don't perhibit it, +actin' 'ull soon be modden'd out of existence; an' we shall 'ave Macbeth +in a two guinea tourist suit, and Looy the Eleventh in nickerbockers, on +a bisykel. It's the old banner-bearing school as got us all our big +actors, an' it stands to reason, my boy; for a cove can't spred hisself +in a frock coat and droring-room langwidge. They're both on 'em too tame +for what I calls real actin'. What! you <i>have heard say as us +banner-bearers don't act—was only machines</i>? Well, some on us don't, +p'r'aps, but some on us does, and no mistake.</p> + +<p>You can't, as a rule, expect much feeling, much dignerty, much +patriertism, or much simperthy for a shillin' a night. If they was all +the real articles, they'd fetch a lot more than that; but there is +gentlemen in my line as goes in for all four—reg'lar comes nateral to +'em. Why, I've been that work'd on when I've seen Joan o'Hark goin' in a +perisher at the stake, an' makin' that last dyin' speech and confession +of hers, that I've felt a real 'art beat against my property +breast-plate, and felt real tears a tricklin' down to my false beard. +I've been so struck with admirashun for some Othellos, that when they've +been a addressin' of me as the sennit, I've felt as dignerfied as if I'd +been the Doag of Venice hisself, and I bet he looked it<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</a></span>.</p> + +<p>As for patriertism, there isn't a man living as has died for his +country—willing, mind you—as often as I have; and I've strewed many a +bloody field of batel with a ernest corpse, I have. An' as far as +regards simperthy, it's stood in my way, for I've been that upset by +Queen Katherines and Prince Arthurs, and even old Shylock (for Grashyano +does giv' 'im a doin'), and Ophelias, and other sufferin' parties, as +I've often forgot my hexits and been fined a tanner; and if that ain't +actin', I should like to know what is.</p> + +<p>It's all very well for them noospaper crickets to harry us, and say as +we're a set o' this and a set o' the other, and that we ain't got no +hideas. They wouldn't 'ave many hideas if they wasn't paid more than a +shilling a night (with often twopence off to the hagent) for the use of +'em; the article's as good as the price, an' no mistake. Some on us gets +a bit more, and accordin' some on us gives a bit more; for there's first +heavy lead, and setterer, among the supes, just as there is among the +principles, don't make no error! <i>Have to do as the "stars" tell us?</i> +Well, of course, we does, only if the stars don't treat us like gents, +we knows how to queer their pitches: rather! Why, it ain't so very long +since as I was a-playing a Roman Licktor in "Virginius," and when we was +a rehearsin' of it, 'im as played Happyus Clordyus called me a "pig." +"All right," says I, "aside" like, "I'll pig yer." Accordin', when night +comes, and he makes an exit in the third act, and says—didn't he enjoy +hisself with it—"And I shall surely see that they reseve it!" he chucks +his toger over his right shoulder, and turns round as magestick as a +beedle to walk off—well, some'ow, just then I drops my bundle of sticks +("fusses," they call 'em), all accidentle like, and Happyus Clordyus, +with his heyes in the hair, comes to grief, slap over 'em. He was the +un-happyest Clordyus all through that play as ever you see. What did he +call me a "pig" for, the idiot?</p> + +<p>"<i>Seem to be important, after all?</i>" Important! I should think we was! +There couldn't be no big drarmers without us, no gallant warryers, no +'owling mobs, no "Down with the tirants!" no briggands reposin', no +'appy pezzants, and no stage picturs of any account, if it warn't for +the supes and banner-bearers, as ought to be made more on and seen to a +bit better than they is; for what says the old Shyley, in the play, 'im +what old Phellups us'd to warm 'em up in? "What?" says he, "what! Hath +not a supe eyes, 'ands, horgans, somethin' else, and passions? fed with +the same food?—(no! Shakey, old man, he ain't!) Well, if you prick us, +don't us bleed? if we larf, don't you tickle us? and if you wrong us, +ain't we goin' to take it out of you, like I took it out o' Happyus +Clordyus?" <i>How I do wag?</i> Well, ain't it enough to make me? Don't let +that 'ere utilerty cuff-shooter allood to me as "only a banner-bearer," +then! Let 'im, and all the others, treat us more respectful, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</a></span> he and +them too 'ull find a feeling 'art and good manners too, at even a +shilling a night, though we could throw 'em in a lot; more of both for +an extra bob.—Good night, old man.</p> + +<p class="blockquot">(<i>By permission of</i> <span class="smcap">Messrs. Routledge & Sons</span>.)</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 80%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_DREAM_OF_THE_BILIOUS_BEADLE" id="THE_DREAM_OF_THE_BILIOUS_BEADLE"></a>THE DREAM OF THE BILIOUS BEADLE.</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">Arthur Shirley.</span></h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Twas in the grimy winter time, an evening cold and damp,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And four and twenty work'us boys, all of one ill-fed stamp,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Were blowing on blue finger tips, bent double with the cramp;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And when the skilly poured out fell into each urchin's pan<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They swallowed it at such a pace as only boyhood can.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But the Beadle sat remote from all, a bilious-looking man—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His hat was off, red vest apart, to catch the evening breeze:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He thought that that might cool his brow; it only made him sneeze,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So pressed his side with his hand, and tried to seem as if at ease.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Heave after heave his waistcoat gave, to him was peace denied,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It tortured him to see them eat, he couldn't though he tried!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Good fare had made him much too fat, and rather goggle-eyed;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At length he started to his feet, some hurried steps he took,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now up the ward, now down the ward, with wild dyspeptic look,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And lo! he saw a work'us boy, who read a penny book—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"You beastly brat! What is't you're at? I warrant 'tis no good!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What's this? 'The life of Turpin Bold!' or 'Death of Robin Hood'?"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"It's '<i>Hessays on the Crumpet</i>,' sir, as a harticle of food!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He started from that boy as tho' in's ear he'd blown a trumpet,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His hand he pressed upon his chest, then with his fist did thump it,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And down he sat beside the brat and talked about The Crumpet.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How now and then that muffin men of whom tradition tells,<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</a></span><span class="i0">By pastry trade, fortunes had made, and come out awful swells,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While their old patrons suffered worse than Irving in "The Bells!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"And well, I know," said he, "forsooth, for plenty have I bought,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The sufferings of foolish folk who eat more than they ought.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"With pepsine pills and liver pads is their consumption fraught,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oh! oh! my boy, my pauper boy! Take my advice, 'tis best shun<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All such tempting tasty things, tho' nice beyond all question,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Unless you wish like me to feel the pangs of indigestion!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One, who had ever made me long—a muffin man and old—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I watched into a public-house, he called for whisky cold,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And for one moment left his stock within green baize enrolled.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I crept up to them, thinking what an appetite I'd got,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I gloated o'er them lying there elastic and all hot;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I thought of butter laid on thick, and then I prigged the lot!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I took them home, I toasted them, p'raps upwards of a score,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And never had so fine a feast on luscious fare before,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'And now,' I said, 'I'll go to bed, and dream of eating more.'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All night I lay uneasily, and rolled from side to side,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At first without one wink of sleep, no matter how I tried;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And then I dreamt I was a 'bus, and gurgled 'Full inside!'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I was a 'bus by nightmares drawn on to some giddy crest,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now launched like lightning through the air, now stop'd and now compressed;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I felt a million muffin men were seated on my chest!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I heard their bells—their horrid bells—in sound as loud as trumpets,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oh, curses on ye, spongy tribe! Ye cruffins and ye mumpets!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I must be mad! I mean to say ye muffins and ye crumpets!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then came a chill like Wenham ice; then hot as hottest steam;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I could not move a single limb! I could not even scream!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You pauper brat, remember that all this was but a dream!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The boy gazed on his troubled brow, from which big drops were oozing,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And for the moment all respect for his dread function losing,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Made this remark, "Well, blow me tight, our Beadle's been a-boozing!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That very week, before the beak, they brought that beadle burly;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He pleaded guilty in a tone dyspeptically surly,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And he lives still at Pentonville with hair not long or curly!<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="blockquot">(<i>By permission of the Author.</i>)</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 80%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="MY_FRIEND_TREACLE" id="MY_FRIEND_TREACLE"></a>MY FRIEND TREACLE.</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">Watkin-Elliott.</span></h3> + +<p>"So Charley is going to marry 'the most charming girl in the +world'!" I ejaculated, after a hearty laugh over the following +epistle from my old friend:—</p> + +<div class="pblockquot"> +<p> +"<span class="smcap">Dear Bob</span>,—<br /> +</p> + +<p> "I am going to do for myself in earnest; no humbug this time. 'For +better or for worse,' and if it turns out the latter it will be a scrape +no one can get me out of. Of course, you understand I am about to marry, +and I need not add <i>she</i> is the most charming girl in the world: fair, +sky-blue eyes, silk-worm—I mean spun silk hair, lovely in fact! Come +and be my best man: do, old fellow! You have backed me up lots of times +before, and although we have lost sight of one another since 'we were +boys together,' that goes for nothing between us—does it? Write by +return, and say you will support me: I have a dread that I shall marry +the wrong girl, or allow some one else to marry Lucy—that's <i>her</i> +name!—or do something unlucky, unless you look after me.</p> + +<p style='text-align: right'> +"Yours, as ever, <br /> +"<span class="smcap">Charley Boston</span>.<br /> +</p> + +<p>"P.S.—It comes off in a fortnight."</p></div> + +<p>"'It,'—well that is vague enough, but I suppose he means +the happy event. Ye gods and little fishes!—to call a marriage +'it'! but that is like Boston. And 'sure to do something unlucky,' +are you? Well, I guess you are not the 'Treacle' of +old unless you get into some quandary over it," I muttered; and +then I threw myself back in my chair and laughed again as some +of our adventures, when we were at Dr. Omega's school—I mean +college—presented themselves to my mind.</p> + +<p>Glorious times those! looking back upon them now, although +we did not value them, in our careless youth, at their full +worth.</p> + +<p>Treacle's—<i>i.e.</i>, Boston's—daring always led him to some adventure, +and I always backed him up—in a feeble way, perhaps,—and +we always got found out somehow, and got our deserts in +a manner more satisfactory to lovers of justice than to ourselves. +Stunning times!</p> + +<p>The very fact of our being punished for the same crime, and +at the same time, was a bond of union between Treacle and +myself.</p> + +<p>"One touch of sympathy," or one touch of the rod, made us<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</a></span> +kin in a manner very peculiar;—a fellow feeling made us +wondrous kind and sympathetic.</p> + +<p>You talk of little dinners and little suppers in these days, +and think them epicurean feasts!—but, be really hungry—hungry +as a school-boy, and enjoy a little supper off kippered +herring <i>on the sly</i>—that <i>is</i> a feast, if you like. Such feasts as +these we enjoyed at Mother Kemp's, down the village, when the +Doctor, tutors, and monitors imagined us safely tucked in our +little beds.</p> + +<p>Looking upon Mother Kemp, in those days, I thought her a +good fairy disguised as a witch. Looking back upon her, with +manhood's enlightened judgment, I think she was an unprincipled +old woman, who traded on our weaknesses. I confess +myself to have been a hungry boy,—Boston, with a penitence +which did him credit, used to confess the same: we both had a +propensity to come through our trouser-legs and sleeve-jackets, +and, what was worse, could not help ourselves doing so.</p> + +<p>Boston was of an ingenious turn of mind, and it was he who +suggested that those boys, who could afford to be hungry with +any satisfaction to themselves, should club together for a supper +at Mother Kemp's once a-week; and it was through one of +these suppers, or the search for one, that he got his sweet +sobriquet of "Treacle."</p> + +<p>He having made the suggestion, we elected him chief of our +expeditions, and thus to a certain extent he held the fate of our +appetites in his hands.</p> + +<p>One night we had escaped, as usual, by means of a rope-ladder +made by Boston, from the window of the room of which +I was senior boy, to Mother Kemp's in the village.</p> + +<p>Mother Kemp kept a general shop—that is to say, she retailed +tallow, treacle, rope, bacon, herrings, soap, cottons, tops, +balls, butter, sweets, and so forth; and she not only, as a rule, +sold us a supper out of her heterogeneous store, but cooked it, if +needs were, and served it for us in her back parlour—that is, <i>if +we could</i> pay ready cash down.</p> + +<p>This night of which I speak we could not. We had appealed +to Madame Kemp's motherly heart for "trust," in vain, and we +were returning home in a state of double the hunger to that in +which we had started, on account of our hopes being unfulfilled, +when Charlie Boston made a remark in a melancholy tone: it +was—</p> + +<p>"I wonder if the pantry window is open."</p> + +<p>We eyed him askance and in silence.</p> + +<p>"And if," with a frown of determination on his brow, "there +is <i>anything</i> inside!"</p> + +<p>Then we knew we were "in" for something, be it to eat or +feel, and followed him half in hope, half in fear.</p> + +<p>The window was open. Looking upon that casement from my +point of view now, I decide it was an architectural folly, being<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</a></span> +no more than seven feet from the ground, and innocent of bars +or protection of any kind, and moreover large enough for any +one of moderate size to creep through.</p> + +<p>From our point of view, then, we thought it a very jolly contrivance.</p> + +<p>"Hurrah!" shouted Boston, <i>sotto voce</i>—in fact, very much +<i>sotto voce</i>—"we will indeed sup at the doctor's expense to-night, +bless him!—eh, boys?"</p> + +<p>Either to the supper or blessing we assented, joyfully; but +when our chief asked who was for reconnoitring, the question +was received in silence.</p> + +<p>"Suppose it is missed in the morning—I mean, <i>what we eat</i>," +suggested some one, timidly.</p> + +<p>"Cats!" settled Boston with laconic contempt.</p> + +<p>"But cats don't eat cheese, and—"</p> + +<p>"Bah! cats eat <i>anything</i>, from mice to stewed-eels' feet. Who +will follow if I lead?"</p> + +<p>"Couldn't you get in and hand something out?" asked +another, coolly.</p> + +<p>"Wish you may get it. Travers, <i>you</i> will follow, will you +not?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," I replied, with a little inward shudder. "'Lead on, +Macduff, and'—and, what you may call it, be him that first +cries 'Hold, enough!'"</p> + +<p>"Old enough for what?" queried the wit of the party.</p> + +<p>"Look here, Jenkins, don't you be a fool; this is not the +time for vile puns, or Shakspeare either," with a frown at me.</p> + +<p>"It will take a jolly long time for us all to get in one after +the other," I ruminated upon this snub.</p> + +<p>"And a jollier long time to get out, if we want to, in a +hurry," suggested the timid one.</p> + +<p>"That is true," agreed the chief. "We will toss up, and +'odd man' goes in and hands out—eh?"</p> + +<p>Faint applause.</p> + +<p>But the idea was not carried out, because, upon reflection, we +remembered Mother Kemp had our last coin.</p> + +<p>"Never mind," cried Boston, in his happy dare-all way. +"I'll do it! Lend me a back, somebody, and keep a sharp +look out, mind!"</p> + +<p>We lent him a back with alacrity, it being a cheap and easy +loan, and he drew himself up.</p> + +<p>"I see a pie!" he cried, and the words revived us. "Supposing +it is steak!"</p> + +<p>We supposed, and felt more hungry than ever.</p> + +<p>Then we watched him with increased interest, as he squeezed +his body through the casement, paused a moment to recover +breath, descended gradually and carefully, and—Heavens, +what was that? There was a scuffle and a gasp. Was it the +doctor?<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</a></span></p> + +<p>I think at this juncture my knees began to tremble; so I +cannot describe what the other sounds in the pantry were—at +least, not with any accuracy.</p> + +<p>"I say," began some one of our party—he was always doing +that, saying "I say," and stopping short; a nasty habit, you +know, for when one's nerves are unstrung it makes you anxious, +not to say alarmed.</p> + +<p>"Old Omega!" whispered another in an awed tone.</p> + +<p>"Can't be; there's no talking."</p> + +<p>"No, because he's such an artful old fox; he thinks he'll +catch us all!—Eh?"</p> + +<p>The "eh" was to one who thought he had "<i>better go and see +if the ladder was there all right</i>."</p> + +<p>It ended in their all going for the same commendable purpose, +and leaving me behind to look after Boston. I was very +much inclined to follow them, I confess, but I liked my friend +too much to leave him, so, having a regard for my own personal +safety, I got behind a laurel and waited.</p> + +<p>"Silence there, and nothing more."</p> + +<p><i>Could</i> it be the doctor! Could the doctor keep his anger so +long bottled up—even to catch the rest of us—without bursting?</p> + +<p>I thought not: he would have had a fit by this time.</p> + +<p>In those days I remember revolving in my mind the advantage +I would gain if Dr. Omega did have a fit and died. It was +very horrible of me, of course, but then I was a boy, and as I +looked at the doctor's purple visage—<i>was</i> it coloured by the +liquid et cetera?—I decided that if he were removed, no matter +how, I might have a jolly holiday until another authority was +placed over me, or I placed under another authority.</p> + +<p>O, it was wicked of me, I know, <i>terribly</i> wicked!—but true. +Mais revenons à Boston. If it is not the doctor in there with +him, it may be the cook, I revolved behind the bushes. The +cook ought to be in bed, by this time—so ought I: I was not, +that was a certainty, perhaps the cook was not; if not—why it +was very wrong of her not to be, I concluded virtuously.</p> + +<p>The moments passed, and still no sound from the pantry of +voices. <i>Had</i> Charley fallen down in a fit instead of the doctor? +I crept from my hiding place and essayed a faint whistle, recognised +by us all as a call.</p> + +<p>No answer.</p> + +<p>"Boston!" I ejaculated, feeling sure now that the doctor +could not possibly be there.</p> + +<p>Then, as I watched the casement, as anxiously as any lover +could that of his mistress, I saw something appear at it: by the +light of the moon it looked <i>black</i> and <i>shiny</i>. If the shock had +not deprived me of motion I should have fled. I could not flee, +so I stood bravely to my post and shook like a jelly.</p> + +<p>What was it? I felt like Hamlet when he saw the ghost of +his father; but I did not apostrophize it—I knew better,—at<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</a></span> +least I had not sufficient choice Shakespearian language at my +tongue's end to do so becomingly.</p> + +<p>"Travers?"</p> + +<p>"Angels and ministers"—my name in Boston's voice. In a +moment the roaring in my ears ceased, and my muscles gained +strength.</p> + +<p>"Is that <i>you</i>, Charley?" I asked, sensibly enough.</p> + +<p>"Phew!"</p> + +<p>"Why—why, hang it, Boston, what's up—eh?"</p> + +<p>"'Up!'—all over me—choking me—Treacle!" gasped my +friend, creeping through the window, with difficulty, as he spoke, +and losing his balance, as he reached the ground, he fell against +me, stuck to me, disengaged himself, and finally stood upright.</p> + +<p>"Treacle!" I ejaculated with a roar, which even though the +doctor might have heard I could not suppress, as Charley began +clearing out his eyes and mouth with his already sticky fists.</p> + +<p>"Yes, <i>treacle</i>," crossly. "You needn't laugh like that, Bob, +and make such a confounded fool of yourself," he growled. "I +stumbled, somehow, and fell face forward into a pan of it. Don't +make such a row, Travers!" as I continued my cachination and +held my aching sides, "I might have been smothered for all +<i>you</i> would have cared. By Jove! smothered in treacle! Why +a butt of Malmsey would be a natural death in comparison."</p> + +<p>"The treacle we have for our puddings and with our brimstone?" +I gasped at last.</p> + +<p>"Yes." Here the ludicrous aspect of affairs struck the +martyr, and he joined me in my merriment.</p> + +<p>"I didn't know where I was going until I was in it," he continued. +"Ugh! I shall hate treacle like poison for the rest of +my life! Where are the other fellows?"</p> + +<p>"Sneaked away; thought Omega had caught you."</p> + +<p>"Cowards!"</p> + +<p>At this moment a low whistle, a danger signal, from the boys +just denounced, caused us to hurry from the spot, and reaching +the rope ladder, we were up it like cats, gaining our room just +in time to find that, by the light shining under the door, some +one was on the alert.</p> + +<p>"Get under my bed!" I whispered to Charley, as his escape +to his own room was cut off.</p> + +<p>In his hurry and confusion, he got <i>into</i> it. I had no time to +demur, and jumped in after him, just as the doctor, suspicious +and austere, entered, candlestick in hand.</p> + +<p>"Noise in number three: senior boy, report."</p> + +<p>I, senior boy, reported, and replied by a nasal demonstration +which I flattered myself was a very good imitation of a sound +snore.</p> + +<p>"Robert Travers!" in a voice which might, almost, have +awakened the dead.</p> + +<p>"Sir," replied I—Robert—as sleepily as I could.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Somebody walking about this room, and talking."</p> + +<p>If brevity is the soul of wit, then old Omega was the wittiest +fellow I ever came across,—although he never <i>looked</i> it.</p> + +<p>He always spoke sharply and to the point, and gave us our +due in the same manner.</p> + +<p>Now, as he jerked his sentence out, he approached nearer. +Charley, like a certain big bird, seemed to fancy that, because +his own face was hidden and he could see no one, it followed +that no one could see him; whereas, half his head was +exposed to view.</p> + +<p>I sat up in bed, hurriedly giving my companion a vicious kick +of caution, as I explained to the doctor that "little Simpson +walked and talked in his sleep;" at which "little Simpson," in +a corner of the room, groaned audibly.</p> + +<p>"Simpson, junior, what do you mean by walking in your +sleep, sir?"</p> + +<p>Simpson groaned again, and the doctor, thinking he was +snoring, continued,—</p> + +<p>"He eats too much; must diet him. A dose of brimstone +and treacle (I felt Boston jump) in the morning will do him +good—cooling. Remind me, Travers. By the way, sir, how +comes it you are awake?"</p> + +<p>"Please, sir, you woke me—awakened me, sir," I stammered.</p> + +<p>"Hem," doubtfully. "Whom have you in bed with you—eh?" +as Boston, rendered uncomfortable by his sticky face, had +moved.</p> + +<p>"With <i>me</i>, sir?" I murmured, vaguely.</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir, with you. Come out, whoever it is!" roared +Omega, without further parley.</p> + +<p>But Boston remained still as a mouse.</p> + +<p>Struck dumb with anger and astonishment, that a boy should +have the impudence to stop in when <i>he</i> ordered him to come +out, the doctor strode round to Charley's side, and laid hands on +the miscreant to have him out by force; but, no sooner had he +felt the viscous state of our hero, than he withdrew them precipitately, +with the pious ejaculation,—</p> + +<p>"Good heavens! What is the matter with him!"</p> + +<p>"Necessitas non habet legem."</p> + +<p>I, being senior boy, had to report. I did so, tremblingly, and +imitated the doctor in my brevity.</p> + +<p>"Matter, sir—treacle, sir."</p> + +<p>"Treacle!" in a voice of concentrated thunder, if you know +what that is like.</p> + +<p>"His mother sent him a pot of treacle, sir, and he—and he +thought it was pomatum, sir, and—and——" my imaginative +powers fell before the lightning of the doctor's glance.</p> + +<p>"<i>Whose</i> mother?"</p> + +<p>"Boston's, sir."</p> + +<p>"Boston, come out!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</a></span></p> + +<p>And Boston, after some little delay caused in having to detach +himself from surroundings, came forth like a lamb—I +mean, like a black sheep.</p> + +<p>"What the dev——!"</p> + +<p>But I draw a curtain over the rest; the doctor was profane, +and he hurt my feelings <i>very much</i>.</p> + +<p>Poor old Treacle! The name stuck to him ever after.</p> + +<p>Well, I went to his wedding, and with the exception that at +the critical part of the ceremony he dropped the ring, which, +after we had all scrambled on our knees for, was found in the +bride's veil, he went through the "happiest day of his life" +without a mistake.</p> + +<p>As for myself, in searching for that ring, I knocked my head +against Treacle's sister's, and it upset me. A thrill went through +me, which was most painfully pleasant. At the breakfast-table +I became sentimental; in making my speech for the ladies, I +caught her—Treacle's sister's—eye, she smiled, and I lost the +thread of my discourse. It was a very slender thread, and I +never found it again until, one day, I was wandering round +somebody's garden with my arm round Treacle's sister's waist, +and,—but that doesn't matter! She is a jolly little thing, though—Treacle's +sister is.</p> + +<p class="blockquot">(<i>By permission of the Author.</i>)</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 80%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_VOICE_OF_THE_SLUGGARD" id="THE_VOICE_OF_THE_SLUGGARD"></a>THE VOICE OF THE SLUGGARD.</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">Anonymous.</span></h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Have you brought my boots, Jemima? Leave them at my chamber door.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Does the water boil, Jemima? Place it also on the floor.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Eight o'clock already, is it? How's the weather—pretty fine?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Eight is tolerably early; I can get away by nine.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Still I feel a little sleepy, though I came to bed at one.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Put the bacon on, Jemima; see the eggs are nicely done!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I'll be down in twenty minutes—or, if possible, in less;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I shall not be long, Jemima, when I once begin to dress.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She is gone, the brisk Jemima; she is gone, and little thinks<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How the sluggard yearns to capture yet another forty winks,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Since the bard is human only—not an early village cock—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Why should he salute the morning at the hour of eight o'clock?<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</a></span><span class="i0">Stifled be the voice of Duty; Prudence, prythee, cease to chide,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While I turn me softly, gently, round upon my other side.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sleep, resume thy downy empire; reassert thy sable reign!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Morpheus, why desert a fellow? Bring those poppies here again!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What's the matter, now, Jemima? Nine o'clock? It cannot be!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hast prepared the eggs, the bacon, and the matutinal tea?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Take away the jug, Jemima, go, replenish it anon;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Since the charm of its caloric must be very nearly gone.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She has left me. Let me linger till she reappears again,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let my lazy thoughts meander in a free and easy vein.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">After Sleep's profoundest solace, nought refreshes like the doze.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Should I tumble off, no matter; she will wake me, I suppose.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bless me, is it you, Jemima? Mercy on us, what a knock?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Can it be—I can't believe it—actually ten o'clock?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I will out of bed and shave me. Fetch me warmer water up!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let the tea be strong, Jemima, I shall only want a cup!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Stop a minute! I remember some appointment by the way,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Twould have brought me mints of money; 'twas for ten o'clock to-day.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let me drown my disappointment, Slumber, in thy seventh heaven!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You may go away, Jemima. Come and call me at eleven!<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="blockquot">(<i>From the "Leeds Mercury."</i>)</p> + + + + +<hr style="width: 80%;" /> +<h2><a name="ARTEMUS_WARDS_VISIT_TO_THE_TOWER_OF_LONDON" id="ARTEMUS_WARDS_VISIT_TO_THE_TOWER_OF_LONDON"></a>ARTEMUS WARD'S VISIT TO THE TOWER OF LONDON.</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">Ch. Farrar Browne.</span></h3> + +<p>I skurcely need inform you that the Tower is very pop'lar +with pe'ple from the agricultooral districks, and it was chiefly +them class which I found waitin' at the gates the other mornin'.</p> + +<p>I saw at once that the Tower was established on a firm basis. +In the entire history of firm basises, I don't find a basis more +firmer than this one.</p> + +<p>"You have no Tower in America?" said a man in the crowd, +who had somehow detected my denomination.</p> + +<p>"Alars! no," I ansered; "we boste of our enterprise and +improovements, and yit we are devoid of a Tower. America,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</a></span> +oh my onhappy country! thou hast not got no Tower! It's a +sweet Boon."</p> + +<p>The gates were opened after a while, and we all purchist +tickets, and went into a waitin' room.</p> + +<p>"My frens," said a pale-faced little man, in black close, +"that is a sad day."</p> + +<p>"Inasmuch as to how?" I said.</p> + +<p>"I mean it is sad to think that so many peple have been +killed within these gloomy walls. My frens, let us drop a +tear."</p> + +<p>"No!" I said, "you must excuse me. Others may drop +one if they feel like it; but as for me, I decline. The early +managers of this institootion were a bad lot, and their crimes +were trooly orful; but I can't sob for those who died four or +five hundred years ago. If they was my own relations I +couldn't. It's absurd to shed sobs over things which occurd +during the rain of Henry the Three. Let us be cheerful," I +continnered. "Look at the festiv Warders, in their red flannel +jackets. They are cheerful, and why should it not be thusly +with us?"</p> + +<p>A Warder now took us in charge, and showed us the Trater's +Gate, the armers, and things. The Trater's Gate is wide enuff +to admit about twenty traters abrest, I should jedge; but +beyond this, I couldn't see that it was superior to gates in +gen'ral.</p> + +<p>Traters, I will here remark, are an onforchunit class of pe'ple. +If they wasn't, they wouldn't be traters. They conspire to +bust up a country—they fail, and they're traters. They bust +her, and they become statesmen and heroes.</p> + +<p>Take the case of Gloster, afterwards Old Dick the Three, who +may be seen at the Tower on horseback, in a heavy tin overcoat—take +Mr. Gloster's case. Mr. G. was a conspirator of the +basist dye, and if he'd failed, he would have been hung on a +sour apple tree. But Mr. G. succeeded and became great. He +was slewed by Col. Richmond, but he lives in history, and his +equestrian figger may be seen daily for a sixpence, in conjunction +with other em'nent persons, and no extra charge for +the Warder's able and bootiful lectur.</p> + +<p>There's one King in this room who is mounted onto a foaming +steed, his right hand graspin a barber's pole. I didn't learn +his name.</p> + +<p>The room where the daggers and pistils and other weppins is +kept is interestin. Among this collection of choice cutlery I +notist the bow and arrer which those hot-heded old chaps used +to conduct battles with. It is quite like the bow and arrer used +at this date by certain tribes of American Injuns, and they +shoot 'em off with such an excellent precision that I almost +sigh'd to be an Injun when I was in the Rocky Mountain regin. +They are a pleasant lot, them Injuns. Mr. Cooper and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</a></span> +Dr. Catlin have told us of the red man's wonderful eloquence, +and I found it so. Our party was stopt on the plains of Utah +by a band of Shoshones, whose chief said:—</p> + +<p>"Brothers! the pale-face is welcome. Brothers! the sun is +sinking in the west, and Wa-na-bucky-she will soon cease +speakin. Brothers! the poor red man belongs to a race which +is fast becomin extink."</p> + +<p>He then whooped in a shrill manner, stole our blankets, and +whisky, and fled to the primeval forest to conceal his emotions.</p> + +<p>I will remark here, while on the subjeck of Injuns, that they +are in the main a very shaky set, with even less sense than the +Fenians; and when I hear philanthropists bewailin the fack that +every year "carries the noble red man nearer the settin sun," +I simply have to say I'm glad of it, tho' it is rough on the settin +sun. They call you by the sweet name of Brother one minit, +and the next they scalp you with their Thomas-hawks. But I +wander. Let us return to the Tower.</p> + +<p>At one end of the room where the weppins is kept, is a wax +figger of Queen Elizabeth, mounted on a fiery stuffed hoss, +whose glass eye flashes with pride, and whose red morocker +nostril dilates hawtily, as if, conscious of the royal burden he +bears. I have associated Elizabeth with the Spanish Armady. +She's mixed up with it at the Surrey Theatre, where <i>Troo to the +Core</i> is bein acted, and in which a full bally core is introjooced +on board the Spanish Admiral's ship, givin' the audiens the +idea that he intends openin a moosic-hall in Plymouth the +moment he conkers that town. But a very interestin drammer +is <i>Troo to the Core</i>, notwithstandin the eccentric conduct of the +Spanish Admiral; and very nice it is in Queen Elizabeth to +make Martin Truegold a baronet.</p> + +<p>The Warder shows us some instrooments of tortur, such as thumbscrews, +throat collars, etc., statin' that these was conkered from the Spanish +Armady, and addin what a crooil peple the Spaniards was in them +days—which elissited from a bright-eyed little girl of about twelve +summers the remark that she tho't it was rich to talk about the crooilty +of the Spaniards usin thumbscrews, when he was in a tower where so many +poor peple's heads had been cut off. This made the Warder stammer and +turn red.</p> + +<p>I was so pleased with the little girl's brightness that I could have +kissed the dear child, and I would if she'd been six years older.</p> + +<p>I think my companions intended makin a day of it, for they all had +sandwiches, sassiges, etc. The sad-lookin man, who had wanted us to drop +a tear afore we started to go round, fling'd such quantities of sassige +into his mouth that I expected to see him choke hisself to death; he +said to me, in the Beauchamp Tower, where the poor prisoners writ their +onhappy names on the cold walls, "This is a sad sight."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</a></span></p> + +<p>"It is indeed," I ansered. "You're black in the face. You shouldn't eat +sassige in public without some rehearsals beforehand. You manage it +orkwardly."</p> + +<p>"No," he said, "I mean this sad room."</p> + +<p>Indeed, he was quite right. Tho' so long ago all these drefful things +happened, I was very glad to git away from this gloomy room, and go +where the rich and sparklin Crown Jewils is kept. I was so pleased with +the Queen's Crown, that it occurd to me what a agree'ble surprise it +would be to send a sim'lar one home to my wife; and I asked the Warder +what was the vally of a good well-constructed Crown like that. He told +me, but on cypherin up with a pencil the amount of funs I have in the +Jint Stock Bank, I conclooded I'd send her a genteel silver watch +instid.</p> + +<p>And so I left the Tower. It is a solid and commandin edifis, but I deny +that it is cheerful. I bid it adoo without a pang.</p> + +<p class="blockquot">(<i>From</i> "<span class="smcap">Punch</span>," <i>by permission of the Proprietors</i>.)</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 80%;" /> +<h2><a name="MR_CAUDLE_HAS_LENT_AN_ACQUAINTANCE_THE_FAMILY_UMBRELLA" id="MR_CAUDLE_HAS_LENT_AN_ACQUAINTANCE_THE_FAMILY_UMBRELLA"></a>MR. CAUDLE HAS LENT AN ACQUAINTANCE THE FAMILY UMBRELLA.</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">Douglas Jerrold.</span></h3> + +<p>"That's the third umbrella gone since Christmas. <i>What +were you to do?</i> Why let him go home in the rain, to be sure. +I'm very certain there was nothing about <i>him</i> that could spoil. +Take cold, indeed! He doesn't look like one of the sort to take +cold. Besides, he'd have better taken cold than take our only +umbrella. Do you hear the rain, Mr. Caudle? I say, do you +hear the rain? And as I'm alive, if it isn't St. Swithin's day! +Do you hear it, against the windows? Nonsense; you don't +impose upon me. You can't be asleep with such a shower as +that! Do you hear it, I say? Oh, you <i>do</i> hear it! Well, +that's a pretty flood, I think, to last for six weeks; and no +stirring all the time out of the house. Pooh! don't think me a +fool, Mr. Caudle. Don't insult <i>me</i>. <i>He</i> return the umbrella! +Anybody would think you were born yesterday. As if anybody +ever <i>did</i> return an umbrella! There—do you hear it? +Worse and worse? Cats and dogs, and for six weeks—always +six weeks. And no umbrella!</p> + +<p>"I should like to know how the children are to go to school +to-morrow? They shan't go through such weather, I'm<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</a></span> +determined. No: they shall stop at home and never learn +anything—the blessed creatures!—sooner than go and get wet. +And when they grow up, I wonder who they'll have to thank +for knowing nothing—who, indeed, but their father? People +who can't feel for their own children ought never to be fathers.</p> + +<p>"But I know why you lent the umbrella. Oh, yes; I know +very well. I was going out to tea at dear mother's to-morrow—you +knew that; and you did it on purpose. Don't tell me; +you hate me to go there, and take every mean advantage to +hinder me. But don't you think it, Mr. Caudle. No, sir; if it +comes down in buckets-full, I'll go all the more. No: and I +won't have a cab, where do you think the money's to come +from? You've got nice high notions at that club of yours. A +cab, indeed! Cost me sixteen-pence at least—sixteen pence! +two and sixpence, for there's back again. Cabs, indeed! I +should like to know who's to pay for 'em; I can't pay for 'em; +and I'm sure you can't, if you go on as you do; throwing away +your property, and beggaring your children—buying umbrellas!</p> + +<p>"Do you hear the rain, Mr. Caudle? I say, do you hear it? +But I don't care—I'll go to mother's to-morrow, I will; and +what's more, I'll walk every step of the way—and you know +that will give me my death. Don't call me a foolish woman, +it's you that's the foolish man. You know I can't wear clogs; +and with no umbrella, the wet's sure to give me a cold—it +always does. But what do you care for that? Nothing at all. +I may be laid up for what you care, as I dare say I shall—and +a pretty doctor's bill there'll be. I hope there will! It will +teach you to lend your umbrellas again. I shouldn't wonder if +I caught my death; yes; and that's what you lent the umbrella +for. Of course!</p> + +<p>"Nice clothes I shall get too, trapesing through weather like +this. My gown and bonnet will be spoilt quite. <i>Needn't I +wear 'em, then?</i> Indeed, Mr. Caudle, I <i>shall</i> wear 'em. No, +sir, I'm not going out a dowdy to please you or anybody else. +Gracious knows! it isn't often that I step over the threshold; +indeed, I might as well be a slave at once,—better, I should say. +But when I do go out, Mr. Caudle, I choose to go like a +lady. Oh! that rain—if it isn't enough to break in the +windows.</p> + +<p>"Ugh! I do look forward with dread for to-morrow! How +I am to go to mother's I'm sure I can't tell. But if I die, I'll +do it. No, sir; I won't borrow an umbrella. No; and you +shan't buy one. Now, Mr. Caudle, only listen to this; if you +bring home another umbrella, I'll throw it in the street. I'll +have my own umbrella, or none at all.</p> + +<p>"Ha! and it was only last week I had a new nozzle put to +that umbrella. I'm sure, if I'd have known as much as I do +now, it might have gone without one for me. Paying for new +nozzles, for other people to laugh at you. Oh, it's all very well<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</a></span> +for you—you can go to sleep. You've no thought of your poor +patient wife, and your own dear children. You think of nothing +but lending umbrellas.</p> + +<p>"Men, indeed!—call themselves lords of the creation!—pretty +lords, when they can't even take care of an umbrella.</p> + +<p>"I know that walk to-morrow will be the death of me. But +that's what you want—then you may go to your club, and do +as you like—and then, nicely my poor dear children will be +used—but then, sir, then you'll be happy. Oh, don't tell me! +I know you will. Else you'd never have lent the umbrella!</p> + +<p>"You have to go on Thursday about that summons; and, of +course, you can't go. No, indeed, you <i>don't</i> go without the +umbrella. You may lose the debt for what I care—it won't be +so much as spoiling your clothes—better lose it: people deserve +to lose debts who lend umbrellas!</p> + +<p>"And I should like to know how I'm to go to mother's without +the umbrella? Oh, don't tell me that I said I would go—that's +nothing to do with it; nothing at all. She'll think I'm +neglecting her, and the little money we were to have, we shan't +have at all—because we've no umbrella.</p> + +<p>"The children, too! Dear things! They'll be sopping wet: +for they shan't stop at home—they shan't lose their learning; +it's all their father will leave 'em, I'm sure. But they <i>shall</i> go +to school. Don't tell me I said they shouldn't: you are so +aggravating, Caudle; you'd spoil the temper of an angel. They +<i>shall</i> go to school; mark that. And if they get their deaths of +cold, it's not my fault—I didn't lend the umbrella!"</p> + +<hr style='width: 25%;' /> + +<p>"At length," writes Caudle, "I fell asleep; and dreamt that +the sky was turned into green calico, with whalebone ribs; +that, in fact, the whole world turned round under a tremendous +umbrella!"</p> + +<p class="blockquot">(<i>By permission of</i> <span class="smcap">Messrs. Bradbury, Agnew, & Co.</span>)</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 80%;" /> +<h2><a name="DOMESTIC_ASIDES" id="DOMESTIC_ASIDES"></a>DOMESTIC ASIDES.</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">Tom Hood.</span></h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I really take it very kind,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">This visit, Mrs. Skinner,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I have not seen you such an age—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">(The wretch has come to dinner!)<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</a></span></div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Your daughters, too, what loves of girls—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">What heads for painters' easels!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Come here, and kiss the infant, dears—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">(And give it, p'raps, the measles!)<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Your charming boys I see are home<br /></span> +<span class="i1">From Reverend Mr. Russell's;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Twas very kind to bring them both—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">(What boots for my new Brussels!)<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"What! little Clara left at home?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Well now, I call that shabby:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I should have loved to kiss her so—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">(A flabby, dabby, babby!)<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"And Mr. S., I hope he's well,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Ah! though he lives so handy,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He never drops in now to sup—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">(The better for our brandy!)<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Come, take a seat—I long to hear<br /></span> +<span class="i1">About Matilda's marriage;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You've come, of course, to spend the day!<br /></span> +<span class="i1">(Thank heaven, I hear the carriage!)<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"What! must you go? Next time I hope<br /></span> +<span class="i1">You'll give me longer measure;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nay—I shall see you down the stairs—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">(With most uncommon pleasure!)<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Good-bye! good-bye! remember all,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Next time you'll take your dinners!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">(Now, David, mind I'm not at home<br /></span> +<span class="i1">In future to the Skinners!")<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="blockquot">(<i>By permission of</i> <span class="smcap">Messrs. Ward, Lock, & Co.</span>)</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 80%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="THE_CHARITY_DINNER" id="THE_CHARITY_DINNER"></a>THE CHARITY DINNER.</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">Litchfield Moseley.</span></h3> + +<p>Time: half-past six o'clock. Place: The London Tavern. +Occasion: Fifteenth Annual Festival of the Society for the +Distribution of Blankets and Top-Boots among the Natives of +the Cannibal Islands.</p> + +<p>On entering the room, we find more than two hundred noblemen, +and gentlemen already assembled; and the number is +increasing every minute. There are many well-known city +diners here this evening. That very ordinary looking personage, +with the rubicund complexion and pimply features, is old +Moneypenny, senior partner of the great firm of Moneypenny, +Blodgers, and Wobbles, corn factors of Mark Lane. He began +the world as a fellowship porter, and always makes a rule of +attending the principal dinners at the London Tavern, "because," +as he says confidentially, to Wobbles, "don't you see, my boy, +it's a very cheap way of getting into society." He is talking +now to Sir Sandy McHaggis, a Scotch baronet, with a slender +purse and a large appetite, with whom he has scraped an +acquaintance, and presented with a spare ticket for the festival; +knowing that the Scotchman is "varra fond o' a gude dinner, +specially when it costs a mon nothing at all." The preparations +are now complete, and we are in readiness to receive the chairman. +After a short pause, a little door at the end of the room +opens, and the great man appears, attended by an admiring +circle of stewards and toadies, carrying white wands, like a +parcel of charity-school boys bent on beating the bounds. He +advances smilingly to his post at the principal table, amid +deafening and long-continued cheers.</p> + +<p>He is a very popular man, this chairman; for is he not the +Earl of Mount-Stuart, late one of Her Majesty's Cabinet +Ministers? and his wealth and party influence are known to be +enormous.</p> + +<p>The dinner now makes its appearance, and we yield up ourselves +to the enjoyments of eating and drinking. These important +duties finished, and grace having been beautifully sung +by the vocalists, the real business of the evening commences. +The usual loyal toasts having been given, the noble chairman +rises, and, after passing his fingers through his hair, he places +his thumbs in the armholes of his waistcoat, gives a short preparatory +cough, accompanied by a vacant stare round the room, +and commences as follows:—</p> + +<div class="pblockquot"><p>"<span class="smcap">My Lords and Gentlemen</span>—It is with mingled pleasure +and regret that I appear before you this evening: of pleasure, +to find that this excellent and world-wide-known society is in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</a></span> +so promising a condition; and, of regret, that you have not +chosen a worthier chairman; in fact, one who is more capable +than myself of dealing with a subject of such vital importance +as this. (Loud cheers). But, although I may be unworthy of +the honour, I am proud to state that I have been a subscriber +to this society from its commencement; feeling sure that nothing +can tend more to the advancement of civilization, social reform, +fireside comfort, and domestic economy among the cannibals, +than the diffusion of blankets and top-boots. (Tremendous +cheering, which lasts for several minutes.) Here, in this +England of ours, which is an island surrounded by water, as I +suppose you all know—or, as our great poet so truthfully and +beautifully expresses the same fact, 'England bound in by the +triumphant sea'—what, down the long vista of years, have +conduced more to our successes in arms, and arts and song, +than blankets? Indeed, I never gaze upon a blanket without +my thoughts reverting fondly to the days of my early childhood. +Where should we all have been now but for those warm and +fleecy coverings? My Lords and Gentlemen! Our first and +tender memories are all associated with blankets: blankets +when in our nurses' arms, blankets in our cradles, blankets in +our cribs, blankets to our French bedsteads in our schooldays, +and blankets to our marital four-posters now. Therefore, I +say, it becomes our bounden duty as men,—and, with feelings +of pride, I add, as Englishmen—to initiate the untutored savage, +the wild and somewhat uncultivated denizen of the prairie, into +the comfort and warmth of blankets; and to supply him, as +far as practicable, with those reasonable, seasonable, luxurious, +and useful appendages. At such a moment as this, the lines +of another poet strike familiarly upon the ears. Let me see, +they are something like this—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Blankets have charms to soothe the savage breast,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And to—to, do—a——"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>I forget the rest. (Loud cheers.) Do we grudge our money +for such a purpose? I answer, fearlessly, No! Could we spend +it better at home? I reply most emphatically, No! True, it +may be said that there are thousands of our own people who +at this moment are wandering about the streets of this great +metropolis without food to eat or rags to cover them. But +what have we to do with them? Our thoughts, our feelings, +and our sympathies, are all wafted on the wings of charity to +the dear and interesting cannibals in the far-off islands of the +green Pacific Ocean. (Hear, hear.) Besides, have not our +own poor the workhouses to go to; the luxurious straw of the +casual wards to repose upon, if they please; the mutton broth +to bathe in; and the ever toothsome, although somewhat +scanty, allowance of 'toke' provided for them? And let it<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</a></span> +ever be remembered that our own people are not savages, and +man-eaters; and, therefore, our philanthropy would be wasted +upon them. (Overwhelming applause.) To return to our +subject. Perhaps some person or persons here may wonder +why we should not send out side-springs and bluchers, as well +as top-boots. To those I will say, that top-boots alone answer +the object desired—namely, not only to keep the feet dry, but +the legs warm, and thus to combine the double use of shoes +and stockings. Is it not an instance of the remarkable foresight +of this society, that it purposely abstains from sending +out any other than top-boots? To show the gratitude of the +cannibals for the benefits conferred upon them, I will just +mention that, within the last few weeks, his Illustrious Majesty, +Hokee Pokey Wankey Fum the First, surnamed by his loving +subjects, 'The Magnificent,' from the fact of his wearing, on +Sundays, a shirt-collar and an eye-glass as full court costume—has +forwarded the president of this society a very handsome +present, consisting of two live alligators, a boa constrictor, and +three pots of preserved Indian, to be eaten with toast; and I +am told, by competent judges, that it is quite equal to Russian +caviare.</p> + +<p>"<span class="smcap">My Lords and Gentlemen</span>—I will not trespass on your +patience by making any further remarks; knowing how incompetent +I am—no, no! I don't mean that—how incompetent you +all are—no! I don't mean either—but you all know what I +mean. Like the ancient Roman lawgiver, I am in a peculiar +position; for the fact is, I cannot sit down—I mean to say, +that I cannot sit down without saying that, if there ever <i>was</i> +an institution, it is <i>this</i> institution; and therefore, I beg to +propose, 'Prosperity to the Society for the Distribution of +Blankets and Top-boots among the Natives of the Cannibal +Islands.'"</p></div> + +<p>The toast having been cordially responded to, his lordship +calls upon Mr. Duffer, the secretary, to read the report. +Whereupon that gentlemen, who is of a bland and oily temperament, +and whose eyes are concealed by a pair of green spectacles, +produces the necessary document, and reads, in the +orthodox manner,—</p> + +<div class="pblockquot"><p>"Thirtieth Half-yearly Report of the Society for the Distribution +of Blankets and Top-boots to the Natives of the +Cannibal Islands.</p> + +<p>"The society having now reached its fifteenth anniversary, +the committee of management beg to congratulate their friends +and subscribers on the success that has been attained.</p> + +<p>"When the society first commenced its labours, the generous +and noble-minded natives of the islands, together with their +king—a chief whose name is well known in connexion with +one of the most stirring and heroic ballads of this country<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</a></span>—attired +themselves in the light but somewhat insufficient costume +of their tribe—viz., little before, nothing behind, and no +sleeves, with the occasional addition of a pair of spectacles; +but now, thanks to this useful association, the upper classes of +the cannibals seldom appear in public without their bodies +being enveloped in blankets and their feet encased in top-boots.</p> + +<p>"When the latter useful articles were first introduced into +the islands, the society's agents had a vast amount of trouble to +prevail upon the natives to apply them to their proper purposes; +and, in their work of civilization, no less than twenty of its +representatives were massacred, roasted, and eaten. But we +persevered; we overcame the natural antipathy of the cannibals +to wear any covering to their feet; until after a time, the +natives discovered the warmth and utility of boots; and now +they can scarcely be induced to remove them until they fall off +through old age.</p> + +<p>"During the past half year, the society has distributed no +less than 71 blankets and 128 pairs of top-boots; and your +committee, therefore, feel convinced that they will not be +accused of inaction. But a great work is still before them; +and they earnestly invite co-operation, in order that they may +be enabled to supply the whole of the cannibals with these +comfortable, nutritious, and savoury articles.</p> + +<p>"As the balance-sheet is rather a lengthy document, I will +merely quote a few of the figures for your satisfaction. We +have received, during the half-year, in subscriptions, donations, +and legacies, the sum of £5,403 6<i>s.</i> 8¾<i>d.</i> Rent, rates, and taxes, +£305 10<i>s.</i> 0¼<i>d.</i> Seventy-one pairs of blankets, at 20<i>s.</i> per pair, +have taken £71 exactly; and 128 pairs of tops-boots, at 21<i>s.</i> +per pair, cost us £134 some odd shillings. The salaries and +expenses of management amount to £1,307 4<i>s.</i> 2½<i>d.</i>; and +sundries, which include committee meetings and travelling +expenses, have absorbed the remainder of the sum, and amount +to £3,268 9<i>s.</i> 1¾<i>d.</i> So that we have expended on the dear and +interesting cannibals the sum of £205, and the remainder of +the sum—amounting to £5,198—has been devoted to the working +expenses of the society."</p></div> + +<p>The reading concluded, the secretary resumes his seat amid +heavy applause, which continues until Mr. Alderman Gobbleton +rises, and, in a somewhat lengthy and discursive speech—in +which the phrases, "the Corporation of the City of London," +"suit and service," "ancient guild," "liberties and privileges," +and "Court of Common Council," figure frequently, states that +he agrees with everything the noble chairman has said; and +has, moreover, never listened to a more comprehensive and +exhaustive document than the one just read; which is calculated +to satisfy even the most obtuse and hard-headed of +individuals.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</a></span></p> + +<p>Gobbleton is a great man in the City. He has either been +Lord Mayor, or sheriff, or something of the sort; and, as a few +words of his go a long way with his friends and admirers, his +remarks are very favourably received.</p> + +<p>"Clever man, Gobbleton!" says a common councilman, +sitting near us, to his neighbour, a languid swell of the period.</p> + +<p>"Ya-as, vewy! Wemarkable style of owatowy—and gweat +fluency," replies the other.</p> + +<p>But attention, if you please!—for M. Hector de Longuebeau, +the great French writer, is on his legs. He is staying in +England for a short time, to become acquainted with our +manners and customs.</p> + +<div class="pblockquot"><p>"<span class="smcap">Milors and Gentlemans!</span>" commences the Frenchman, +elevating his eyebrows, and shrugging his shoulders. "Milors +and Gentlemans—You excellent chairman, M. le Baron de +Mount-Stuart, he have say to me, 'Make de toast.' Den I say +to him dat I have no toast to us; but he nudge my elbow ver +soft, and say dat dere is von toast dat nobody but von Frenchman +can make proper; and, derefore, wid you kind permission, +I will make de toast. 'De breveté is de sole of de feet,' as +you great philosopher, Dr. Johnson, do say, in dat amusing +little work of his, de Pronouncing Dictionnaire; and derefore, +I vill not say ver moch to de point. Ven I vas a boy, about +so moch tall, and used for to promenade de streets of Marseilles +et of Rouen, vid no feet to put onto my shoe, I nevare to have +exposé dat dis day vould to have arrivé. I vas to begin de +vorld as von garçon—or, vat you call in dis countrie, von +vaitaire in a café—vere I vork ver hard, vid no habillemens at +all to put onto myself, and ver little food to eat, excep' von old +bleu blouse vat vas give to me by de proprietaire, just for to keep +myself fit to be showed at, but, tank goodness, tings dey have +changé ver moch for me since dat time, and I have rose myself, +seulement par mon industrie et perseverance. (Loud +cheers.) Ah! mes amis! ven I hear to myself de flowing +speech, de oration magnifique of you Lor' Maire, Monsieur +Gobbledown, I feel dat it is von great privilige for von étranger +to sit at de same table, and to eat de same food, as that grand, +dat majestique man, who are de terreur of de voleurs and de +brigands of de metropolis; and who is also, I for to supposé, a +halterman and de chef of you common scoundrel. Milors and +gentlemans, I feel dat I can perspire to no greatare honneur +dan to be von common scoundrelman myself; but hélas! dat +plaisir are not for me, as I are not freeman of your great cité, +not von liveryman servant of von of you compagnies joint-stock. +But I must not forget de toast. Milors and Gentlemans! De +immortal Shakespeare he have write, 'De ting of beauty are +de joy for nevermore.' It is de ladies who are de toast. Vat +is more entrancing dan de charmante smile, de soft voice, de +vinking eye of de beautiful lady? It is de ladies who do<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</a></span> +sweeten de cares of life. It is de ladies who are de guiding +stars of our existence. It is de ladies who do cheer but not +inebriate; and, derefore, vid all homage to dere sex, de toast +dat I have to propose is, 'De Ladies! God bless dem all!'"</p></div> + +<p>And the little Frenchman sits down amid a perfect tempest +of cheers.</p> + +<p>A few more toasts are given, the list of subscriptions is read, +a vote of thanks is passed to the noble chairman; and the +Fifteenth Annual Festival of the Society for the Distribution +of Blankets and Top-boots among the Natives of the Cannibal +Islands is at an end.</p> + +<p class="blockquot">(<i>Copyright of</i> <span class="smcap">Messrs. F. Warne & Co.</span>)</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 80%;" /> +<h2><a name="ACTING_WITH_A_VENGEANCE" id="ACTING_WITH_A_VENGEANCE"></a>ACTING WITH A VENGEANCE.</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">W. Sapte, Jun.</span></h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Methinks 'tis a very remarkable "sign<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of the times"—I must own this expression's not mine—<br /></span> +<span class="i4">How in these latter days<br /></span> +<span class="i4">The theatrical craze<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Has obtained such a hold on all grades of society;<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And this love of the stage<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Is a mark of the age<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which is not in accord with <i>my</i> views of propriety.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Twas only last week a young lady I know<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Invited the world in a body to go<br /></span> +<span class="i4">(On a wretched wet day)<br /></span> +<span class="i4">To a dull <i>matinée</i>,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When she made her <i>débût</i> in the "Hunchback," as Julia;<br /></span> +<span class="i4">A part which to act is<br /></span> +<span class="i4">A thing of long practice,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Surely ne'er was conceit more absurd or unrulier.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">How can amateur actors commence at the top<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of the Thespian Tree, and avoid coming flop?<br /></span> +<span class="i4">It would seem very queer<br /></span> +<span class="i4">If a young volunteer<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Should begin by commanding the Royal Horse Artillery,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Or if babies should bilk<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</a></span><span class="i4">Their allowance of milk<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And insist upon sucking from bottles of Sillery.<br /></span> +<span class="i4">So it mostly occurs<br /></span> +<span class="i4">That an amateur errs,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And gets chaffed for possessing less skill than audacity,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">When he tackles a part<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Without learning the art,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And exposes his natural want of capacity—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And what is more painful, his lack of sagacity.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">I'm bound to admit<br /></span> +<span class="i4">I was rather once bit<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By the mania myself in a mild sort of way;<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Paid a half-guinea fee<br /></span> +<span class="i4">To the Zeus A.D.C.,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And found myself cast for a part in a play.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I think 'twas the Bandit Brothers of Brighton—<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Or Eastbourne, or Yarmouth—<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Or Hastings, or Barmouth—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I forget for the moment which place was the right 'un—<br /></span> +<span class="i4">But I know there's a chief,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Who at last comes to grief,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">After numerous blood-curdling adventures and rescues,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Such as frequently writers in modern burlesque use.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">Now the part of the chief<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Who comes to grief<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Was secured by a hot-tempered youth, named O'Keefe;<br /></span> +<span class="i4">In spite of the jealousy<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Of two other fellows, he<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cast himself as the leader, without hesitation,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And resented remarks with extreme indignation.<br /></span> +<span class="i4">So the others were fain<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Their rage to contain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And one e'en accepted the part which was reckoned<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To be, on the whole, the one that ranked second.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The local Town Hall was engaged, which would hold<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Some three hundred people—the tickets were sold—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The purchasers wishing to help the good charity<br /></span> +<span class="i4">We played for; some adding<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Donations, and gladding<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The treasurer's heart to a state of hilarity.<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Rehearsals galore<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Were to take place before<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The <i>débût</i> on the boards of the Zeus A.D.C.—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For the members were earnest as earnest could be.<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</a></span></div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">Well, the opening one<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Was rather good fun,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For we found that the practice of vigorous fighting<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Twixt Bandits and Coastguards was rather exciting;<br /></span> +<span class="i4">But later, you know<br /></span> +<span class="i4">It got rather slow<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For those who were "supers" to constantly go<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And lay the same victims perpetually low,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With time after time the identical blow.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">But Mr. O'Keefe,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Who played the chief,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Had a time less monotonous, greatly, than ours,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And always kept up the rehearsals for hours.<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Still he wasn't quite happy,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And often got snappy,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For Richard McEwen, who'd wanted to play<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The part of the chief, and used often to say<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He'd have done it himself in a much better way,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Was by no means contented, thus feeling superior<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To play "seconds" to Keefe, his decided inferior.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">So he did what he could<br /></span> +<span class="i4">To annoy the great K.,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And misunderstood,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">In a scandalous way,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All the stage-manager's proper directions,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And refused to accept either hints or corrections.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Now in the third act, the time being night,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The scene on the beach, there's a hand-to-hand fight<br /></span> +<span class="i4">'Twixt the Bandit chief<br /></span> +<span class="i4">(That's Mr. O'Keefe)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the coastguard captain, Mr. McEwen,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">In which 'tis agreed<br /></span> +<span class="i4">That the first shall succeed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While the latter comes in for no end of a hewing.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But Richard McEwen was strong and quick,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And a very good hand with the single-stick,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And he didn't see why<br /></span> +<span class="i4">He should quietly die<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By the sword of a man, much less clever at fencing.<br /></span> +<span class="i4">So he <i>would</i> give a twist<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Of his muscular wrist,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which disarmed the brave Bandit soon after commencing.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">The rage of O'Keefe<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Exceeded belief,<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</a></span><span class="i0">For McEwen <i>would</i> do it at ev'ry rehearsal;<br /></span> +<span class="i4">The manager vowed<br /></span> +<span class="i4">It could not be allowed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the company's protests became universal.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">McEwen explained<br /></span> +<span class="i4">That he thought the piece gained<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By his showing his skill—how could anyone doubt it?<br /></span> +<span class="i4">"There's more credit," said he,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">"To the chief than there'd be<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If he killed a weak chap who knew nothing about it."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And he went on to say that O'Keefe wasn't fit<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For the part of the chief, and could not fence a bit.<br /></span> +<span class="i4">O'Keefe in reply,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Gave McEwen the lie,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And vowed he would kick him<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Or otherwise "lick" him,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While his eyes flashed like those of a tiger or leopard. He<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Induced us to think<br /></span> +<span class="i4">That his rival must shrink<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From placing himself in such obvious jeopardy.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He did so—and afterwards things all went smoothly,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While O'Keefe played his part in a manner quite Booth-ly,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or, as somebody said, without meaning to gush,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He'd have put Henry Irving himself to the blush.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<hr style='width: 25%;' /> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">As soon as the public performance drew nigh<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The local excitement ran awfully high,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">For reports had been spread<br /></span> +<span class="i4">(By the club, be it said)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That something uncommonly good was expected,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And so on the day<br /></span> +<span class="i4">We turned people away<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From the doors, where quite early a crowd had collected.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<hr style='width: 25%;' /> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Well, the overture over, the drama began,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But, thanks to our casual property man,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">The rise of the curtain<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Was somewhat uncertain.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In fact, for five minutes or so the thing <i>stuck</i>—<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Which was terrible luck!<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And affected the play,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">At least, so I should say,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For the opening act went decidedly tamely,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Though O'Keefe and his bandits stuck to it most gamely.<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</a></span> +<span class="i4">There was not much applause,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Which perhaps was because<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Our audience was certainly very genteel,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And thought it was rude folks should show what they feel;<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Still, we should have preferred<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Some "bravos!" to have heard.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And two or three gentlemen seemingly napping,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We thought might have better employed themselves clapping.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">If first act went badly<br /></span> +<span class="i5">The second quite dragged;<br /></span> +<span class="i4">The actors worked sadly,<br /></span> +<span class="i5">All interest flagged.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And though very often we caught people laughing,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The occasions they chose made us think they were chaffing.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Next came act the third, in which the O'Keefe<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Was to be very great as the terrible chief,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">For in it he killed<br /></span> +<span class="i4">His rival, and spilled<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The gore of the coastguards all over the coast,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And eloped with a bride,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Who beheld him with pride<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Though she could herself of a coronet boast.<br /></span> +<span class="i4">As a matter of fact<br /></span> +<span class="i4">We hoped that this act<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Would redeem in a measure the ones that preceded,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And it opened so well,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And O'Keefe looked so swell,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That at last we obtained the encouragement needed.<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And then came the fight.<br /></span> +<span class="i4">No one thought, on that night,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That McEwen would dare try his vile <i>tour de force</i>;<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And the battle began<br /></span> +<span class="i4">On the well-rehearsed plan,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While the supers made ready to bear off his corse.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<hr style='width: 25%;' /> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Whatever induced him to do it? Who knows?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He says 'twas an accident. Well, I suppose,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">When a man tells you that,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">A denial too flat<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Might perhaps lead to arguments, even to blows.<br /></span> +<span class="i4">But, be that as it may,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">The O'Keefe <i>couldn't</i> slay<br /></span> +<span class="i4">His opponent, whose wrist<br /></span> +<span class="i4">All at once gave a twist,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the brave bandit's weapon went flying away!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The supers stood spellbound, as over the stage<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</a></span><span class="i0">Strode the maddened O'Keefe; in a frenzy of rage<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He picked up his sword, and then went for his foe<br /></span> +<span class="i4">In terrible earnest.<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Oh, that was the sternest,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Most truculent fight<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Ever fought in the sight<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of innocent people, who shouted "Bravo!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Little knowing how soon the real blood was to flow.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">Thank Heaven, the swords<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Were as blunt as two boards!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Otherwise the result would have been simply frightful.<br /></span> +<span class="i4">As it was, every whack<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Make the deuce of a crack,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While the audience considered it clearly delightful.<br /></span> +<span class="i4">With th' applause at its height,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">This most bloodthirsty fight,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By a blow from the skilful McEwen was ended.<br /></span> +<span class="i4">O'Keefe fell as if dead,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">With a gash on his head;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The supers rushed forward, the curtain descended.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">Talk about clapping!<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And walking-stick rapping!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While even the gentlemen formerly napping,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">"Bravoed" themselves hoarse<br /></span> +<span class="i4">With the whole of their force,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And made their fat palms quite tender with slapping.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"O'Keefe! and McEwen!" was shouted by all,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Why the deuce don't they come and acknowledge the call?<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Then some people said<br /></span> +<span class="i4">"That blow on the head—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Was it part of the play?—or"—ah, see, in the hall<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A youth—he's a member, as that ribbon shows—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">See! to Doctor Pomander he stealthily goes—<br /></span> +<span class="i4">To the doctor, who sat<br /></span> +<span class="i4">With his coat and his hat<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Just under his seat, that he need not delay<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If a patient should send to fetch him away;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But who never expected to find <i>in</i> the hall<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A patient—and much less a bandit—at all!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">Anxiety now<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Takes the place of the row,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And people talk low<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And ask "Shall they go?"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When before the dropped curtain there comes with a bow<br /></span> +<span class="i4">The stage-manager suave,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">With a countenance grave,<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</a></span><span class="i0">To announce that although there's nought serious the matter,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">(Here applause and some chatter)<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Still, in the late fight<br /></span> +<span class="i4">The <i>wrong</i> man beat the <i>right</i>,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And that therefore the show was at end for the night.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">Thus the bandit chief<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Came duly to grief,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Though not in the way that the author intended,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And as for his head<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Ere he went home to bed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The doctor had seen that 'twas properly mended.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This, friends, was the end of the drama for me,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And for most, I believe, of the Zeus A.D.C.,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Whose need of success<br /></span> +<span class="i4">May indeed have been less<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Than that usually obtained by such clubs and societies;<br /></span> +<span class="i4">But be that as it may,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">I have e'er from that day<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Placed amateur acting among th' improprieties.<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p class="blockquot">(<i>By permission of the Author.</i>)</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 80%;" /> +<h2><a name="MY_FORTNIGHT_AT_WRETCHEDVILLE" id="MY_FORTNIGHT_AT_WRETCHEDVILLE"></a>MY FORTNIGHT AT WRETCHEDVILLE.</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">George Augustus Sala.</span></h3> + +<p>How I came to be acquainted with Wretchedville was in this wise. I was +in quest last autumn of a nice quiet place within a convenient distance +of town, where I could finish an epic poem—or stay, was it a five-act +drama?—on which I had been long engaged, and where I could be secure +from the annoyance of organ-grinders, and of reverend gentlemen leaving +little subscription books one day and calling for them the next. I pined +for a place where one could be very snug, and where one's friends didn't +drop in "just to look you up, old fellow," and where the post didn't +come in too often. So I picked up a bag of needments, and availing +myself of a mid-day train on the Great Domdaniel Railway, alighted +haphazard at a station.</p> + +<p>It turned out to be Sobbington. I saw at a glance that Sobbington was +too fashionable, not to say stuck-up for me. The waltz from "Faust" was +pianofortetically audible from at least half-a-dozen semi-detached +windows; and this, com<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</a></span>bined with some painful variations on "Take, +then, the sabre," and a cursory glance into a stationer's shop and fancy +warehouse, where two stern mammas of low-church aspect were purchasing +the back numbers of "The New Pugwell Square Pulpit," and three young +ladies were telegraphically inquiring, behind their parents' backs, of +the young person at the counter whether any letters had been left for +them, sufficed to accelerate my departure from Sobbington. The next +station on the road, I was told, was Doleful Hill, and then came +Deadwood Junction. I thought I would take a little walk, and see what +the open and what the covert yielded.</p> + +<p>I left my bag with a moody porter at the Sobbington Station, and trudged +along the road which had been indicated to me as leading to Doleful +Hill. It is true that I had not the remotest idea of where I was going +to live. I walked onwards and onwards, admiring the field cows in the +far-off pastures—cows the white specks on whose hides recurred so +artistically that one might have thought the scenic arrangement of the +landscape had been entrusted to Mr. Birket Foster. Anon I saw coming +towards me, a butcher-boy in his cart, drawn by a fast trotting pony. I +asked him when he neared me, how far it might be to Doleful Hill.</p> + +<p>"Good two mile," quoth the butcher-boy, pulling up. "But you'll have to +pass Wretchedville first. Lays in a 'ole a little to the left, 'arf a +mile on."</p> + +<p>"Wretchedville," thought I; what an odd name! "What sort of a place is +it?" I inquired.</p> + +<p>"Well," replied the butcher-boy; "it's a lively place, a werry lively +place. I should say it was lively enough to make a cricket burst himself +for spite: it's so uncommon lively." And with this enigmatical +deliverance the butcher-boy relapsed into a whistle of the utmost +shrillness, and rattled away towards Sobbington.</p> + +<p>I wish that it had not been quite so golden an afternoon. A little +dulness, a few clouds in the sky, might have acted as a caveat against +Wretchedville. But I plodded on and on, finding all things looking +beautiful in that autumn glow, until at last I found myself descending +the declivitous road into Wretchedville and to destruction.</p> + +<p>"Were there any apartments to let?" Of course there were. The very first +house I came to was, as regards the parlour-window, nearly blocked up by +a placard treating of "Apartments Furnished." Am I right in describing +it as the parlour-window? I scarcely know; for the front door, with +which it was on a level, was approached by such a very steep flight of +steps, that when you stood on the topmost grade, it seemed as though, +with a very slight effort, you could have peeped in at the bed-room +window, or touched one of the chimney-pots; while as concerns the +basement, the front<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</a></span> kitchen—I beg pardon, the breakfast +parlour—appeared to be a good way above the level of the street.</p> + +<p>The space in the first-floor window not occupied by the placard, was +filled by a monstrous group of wax fruit, the lemons as big as pumpkins, +and the leaves of an unnaturally vivid green. The window below—it was a +single-windowed front—served merely as a frame for the half-length +portrait of a lady in a cap, ringlets, and a colossal cameo brooch. The +eyes of this portrait were fixed upon me; and before almost I had lifted +a very small light knocker, decorated, so far as I could make out, with +the cast-iron effigy of a desponding ape, and had struck this against a +door, which to judge from the amount of percussion produced, was +composed of Bristol board highly varnished, the portal itself flew open +and the portrait of the basement appeared in the flesh; indeed, it was +the same portrait. Downstairs it had been Mrs. Primpris looking out into +the Wretchedville Road for lodgers. Upstairs it was Mrs. Primpris +letting her lodgings and glorying in the act.</p> + +<p>She didn't ask for any references. She didn't hasten to inform me that +there were no children or any other lodgers. She didn't look doubtful +when I told her that the whole of my luggage consisted of a black bag +which I had left at the Sobbington Station. She seemed rather pleased +with the idea of the bag, and said that her Alfred should step round for +it. She didn't object to smoking; and she at once invested me with the +Order of the Latchkey—a latchkey at Wretchedville, ha! ha! She further +held me with her glittering eye, and I listened like a two-years' child +while she let me the lodgings for a fortnight certain.</p> + +<p>She had converted me into a single gentleman lodger of quiet and retired +habits—or was I a widower of independent means seeking a home in a +cheerful family?—so suddenly that I beheld all things as in a dream. +Thinking, perchance, that the first stone of that monumental edifice, +the bill, could not be laid too quickly, she immediately provided me +with tea. There was a little cottage-loaf, so hard, round, shiny, and +compact, that I experienced a well-nigh uncontrollable desire to fling +it up to the ceiling to ascertain whether it would chip off any portion +of a preposterous rosette in stucco in the centre, representing a +sunflower surrounded by cabbage-leaves. This terrible ornament was, by +the way, one of the chief sources of my misery at Wretchedville: I was +continually apprehensive that it would tumble down bodily on the table. +In addition to the cottage-loaf there was a pretentious tea-pot, which, +had it been of sterling silver, would have been worth fifty guineas, but +which in its ghastly gleaming, said plainly, "Sheffield" and +"imposture." There was a piece of butter in a "shape" like a diminutive +haystack, and with a cow sprawling on the top in unctuous plasticity. It +was a pallid kind of butter, from which<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</a></span> with difficulty you shaved off +adipocerous scales, which would not be persuaded to adhere to the bread, +but flew off at tangents and went rolling about an intolerably large +tea-tray on whose papier-mâché surface was depicted the death of Captain +Hedley Vicars. The Crimean sky was inlaid with mother-of-pearl, and the +gallant captain's face was highly enriched with blue and crimson +foil-paper.</p> + +<p>As for the tea, I don't think I ever tasted such a peculiar mixture. Did +you ever sip warm catsup sweetened with borax? <i>That</i> might have been +something like it. And what was that sediment, strongly resembling the +sand at Great Yarmouth, at the bottom of the cup? I sat down to my meal, +however, and made as much play with the cottage-loaf as I could. Had the +loaf been varnished? It smelt and looked as though it had undergone that +process. Everything in the house smelt of varnish. I was uncomfortably +conscious, too, during my repast—one side of the room being all +window—that I was performing the part of a "Portrait of the Gentleman +on the first floor," and that, as such, I was "sitting" to Mrs. Lucknow +at Number Twelve opposite—I knew her name was Lucknow, for a brass +plate on the door said so—whose own half-length effigy was visible in +her own breakfast-parlour window glowering at me reproachfully because I +had not taken her first floor, in the window of which was, not a group +of wax fruit, but a sham alabaster vase full of artificial flowers. +Every window in Wretchedville exhibited one or other of these ornaments, +and it was from their contemplation that I began to understand how it +was that the "fancy goods" trade in the Minories and Houndsditch throve +so well. They made things there to be purchased by the housekeepers of +Wretchedville.</p> + +<p>The shades of evening fell, and Mrs. Primpris brought me in a monstrous +paraffin-lamp, the flame of which wouldn't do anything but lick the +chimney-glass till it smoked it to the proper hue to observe eclipses +by, and then splutter into extinction and charnel-like odour. After that +we tried a couple of composites (six to the pound) in green glass +candlesticks. I asked Mrs. Primpris if she could send me up a book to +read, and she favoured me, <i>per</i> Alfred and Selina, with her whole +library, consisting of the Asylum Press Almanack for 1860; two odd +volumes of the Calcutta Directory; the Brewer and Distiller's Assistant; +Julia de Crespigny, or a Winter in London; Dunoyer's French Idioms; and +the Reverend Mr. Huntingdon's Bank of Faith.</p> + +<p>I took out my cigar-case after this and began to smoke; and then I heard +Mrs. Primpris coughing and a number of doors being thrown wide open. +Upon this I concluded that I would go to bed. My sleeping apartment—the +first-floor back—was a perfect cube. One side was a window overlooking +a strip of clay-soil hemmed in between brick walls. There were no +tomb<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</a></span>stones yet, but if it wasn't a cemetery, why, when I opened the +window to get rid of the odour of the varnish, did it smell like one? +The opposite side of the cube was composed of a chest of drawers. I am +not impertinently curious by nature, but as I was the first-floor +lodger, bethought myself entitled to open the top long drawer with a +view to the bestowal of the contents of my black bag. The drawer was not +empty; but that which it held made me feel very nervous. I suppose the +weird figure I saw stretched out there with pink arms and legs sprouting +from a shroud of silver paper, a quantity of ghastly auburn curls, and +two blue glass eyes unnaturally gleaming in the midst of a mask of +salmon-coloured wax, was Selina's best doll; the present perhaps of her +uncle, who was, haply, a Calcutta director, or an Asylum Press Almanack +maker, or a brewer and distiller, or a cashier in the Bank of Faith. I +shut the drawer again hurriedly, and that doll in its silver paper +cerecloth haunted me all night.</p> + +<p>The third side of my bedroom consisted of chimney—the coldest, hardest, +brightest-looking fire-place I ever saw out of Hampton Court Palace +guardroom. The fourth side was door. I forget into which corner was +hitched a wash-hand stand. The ceiling was mainly stucco rosette, of the +pattern of the one in my sitting-room. Among the crazes which came over +me at this time, was one to the effect that this bedroom was a cabin on +board ship, and that if the ship should happen to lurch or roll in the +trough of the sea, I must infallibly tumble out of the door or the +window, or into the drawer where the doll was—unless the drawer and the +doll came out to me—or up the chimney. I think that I murmured +"Steady!" as I clomb into bed.</p> + +<p>My couch—an "Arabian" one, Mrs. Primpris said proudly—seemingly +consisted of the Logan, or celebrated rocking-stone of Cornwall, loosely +covered with bleached canvas, under which was certain loose foreign +matter, but whether composed of flocculi of wool or of the halves of +kidney potatoes I am not in a position to state. At all events I awoke +in the morning veined all over like a scagliola column. I never knew, +too, before, that any blankets were manufactured in Yorkshire, or +elsewhere, so remarkably small and thin as the two seeming flannel +pocket-handkerchiefs with blue-and-crimson edging, which formed part of +Mrs. Primpris's Arabian bed-furniture. Nor had I hitherto been aware, as +I was when I lay with that window at my feet, that the moon was so very +large. The orb of night seemed to tumble on me flat, until I felt as +though I were lying in a cold frying-pan. It was a "watery moon," I have +reason to think; for when I awoke the next morning, much battered with +visionary conflicts with the doll, I found that it was raining cats and +dogs.</p> + +<p>"The rain," the poet tells us, "it raineth every day." It<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</a></span> rained most +prosaically all that day at Wretchedville, and the next, and from Monday +morning till Saturday night, and then until the middle of the next week! +Dear me! dear me! how wretched I was! I hasten to declare that I have no +kind of complaint to make against Mrs. Primpris. Not a flea was felt in +her house. The cleanliness of the villa was so scrupulous as to be +distressing. It smelt of soap and scrubbing-brush like a Refuge. Mrs. +Primpris was strictly honest, even to the extent of inquiring what I +would like to have done with the fat of cold mutton-chops, and sending +me up antediluvian crusts, the remnants of last week's cottage-loaves, +with which I would play moodily at knock-'em-downs, using the +pepper-caster as a pin. I have nothing to say against Alfred's fondness +for art. India-rubber to be sure, is apter to smear than to obliterate +drawings in chalk; but a three-penny piece is not much; and you cannot +too early encourage the imitative faculties. And again, if Selina did +require correction, I am not prepared to deny that a shoe may be the +best implement and the blade bones the most fitting portion of the human +anatomy for such an exercitation.</p> + +<p>I merely say that I was wretched at Wretchedville, and that Mrs. +Primpris's apartments very much aggravated my misery. The usual +objections taken to a lodging-house are to the effect that the furniture +is dingy, the cooking execrable, the servant a slattern, and the +landlady either a crocodile or a tigress. Now my indictment against my +Wretchedville apartments simply amounts to this: that everything was too +new. Never were there such staring paper-hangings, such gaudily printed +druggets for carpets, such blazing hearthrugs—one representing the dog +of Montargis seizing the murderer of the Forest of Bondy—such gleaming +fire-irons, and such remarkably shiny looking-glasses with gilt halters +for frames. The crockery was new, and the glue on the chairs and tables +was scarcely dry. The new veneer peeled off the new chiffonier. The +roller-blinds to the windows were so new that they wouldn't work. The +new stair-carpeting used to dazzle my eyes so, that I was always +tripping myself up; the new oil-cloth in the hall smelt like the Trinity +House repository for new buoys; and Mrs. Primpris was always full +dressed by nine o'clock in the morning. She confessed once or twice +during my stay that her house was not quite "seasoned." It was not even +seasoned to sound. Every time the kitchen-fire was poked you heard the +sound in the sitting-room. As to perfumes, whenever the lid of the +copper in the wash-house was raised, the first-floor lodger was aware of +the fact. I knew by the simple evidence of my olfactory organs what Mrs. +Primpris had for dinner every day. Pork, accompanied by some green +esculent, boiled, predominated.</p> + +<p>When my fortnight's tenancy had expired—I never went<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</a></span> outside the house +until I left it for good—and my epic poem, or whatever it was, had more +or less been completed, I returned to London, and had a rare bilious +attack. The doctor said it was painter's colic; I said at the time it +was disappointed ambition, for the booksellers had looked very coldly on +my poetical proposals, and the managers to a man had refused to read my +play; but at this present writing I believe the sole cause of my malady +to have been Wretchedville. I hope they will pull down the villas and +build the jail there soon, and that the rascal convicts will be as +wretched as I was.</p> + +<p class="blockquot">(<i>From</i> "<span class="smcap">Under the Sun</span>," <i>by permission of</i> +<span class="smcap">Messrs. Vizetelly & Co.</span>)</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 80%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_SORROWS_OF_WERTHER" id="THE_SORROWS_OF_WERTHER"></a>THE SORROWS OF WERTHER.</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">W. M. Thackeray.</span></h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Werther had a love for Charlotte<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Such as words could never utter;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Would you know how first he met her<br /></span> +<span class="i1">She was cutting bread and butter.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Charlotte was a married lady,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And a moral man was Werther,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And for all the wealth of Indies<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Would do nothing for to hurt her.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">So he sighed, and pined, and ogled,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And his passion boiled, and bubbled,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till he blew his silly brains out,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And no more was by it troubled.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Charlotte having seen his body<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Borne before her on a shutter,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like a well-conducted person,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Went on cutting bread and butter.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 80%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="MORAL_MUSIC" id="MORAL_MUSIC"></a>MORAL MUSIC.</h2> + +<h3>(<span class="smcap">By An Experimenter.</span>)</h3> + +<p>I am in a humble sphere of life—a hairdresser's assistant, in fact; but +I have a thirst for improving my mind, and regularly attend the evening +classes at our institute. It was there I read in a magazine about morals +and music. The writer discussed the question whether music by itself, +unpolluted by words, had any "mental significance or moral power." I +left off reading, rather puzzled, but I am of a practical turn of mind. +I joined our bricklaying class at the institute last term, and, although +I nip my fingers a good deal, still it has made me inclined to put all +new truths to the test of experiment. So I determined to experiment on +myself, and see what mental significance and moral power music +possessed, if any. I regulated my life very carefully during the trial, +so that no outside influence should spoil the result. I weighed and +measured out my food and drink, abstained from pickles and sensation +literature, denied myself the exciting pleasure of Jemima's company on +Thursday and Sunday, and, to counterbalance the language of some of our +ruder customers, and to give morals an even chance, I slept with a tract +under my pillow. I started with a quite unprejudiced mind, for the +attention I had paid to music before was mostly measured by the loudness +of it. I took a seat at St. James's Hall in good time, and opened my +mind and morals for impressions. First of all, a man came on the +platform and began, as far as I could see, to tune the piano. I thought +he ought to have done this before the advertised time of opening, but +when he got off the stool, the people all began to applaud him, and on +inquiring, I found that the man I had taken for the tuner was really the +giver of the concert, and that he had been playing one of his own +compositions. So I lost this experiment altogether. However, soon after +the player returned with a violinist, and they started a duet. I set my +teeth. If there was any significance or moral in a violin and piano +mixed, I determined to have it. I had first fleeting visions before my +mind of all the creatures I had ever seen in pain. There was the squeak +of a rat caught in a trap; there was the same sort of shriek Jemima gave +when I took her to have a tooth out; and there was the loud wail which +accompanies the conversion of pig into pork. But this was only the first +chapter. The players stopped, and began again; and the next chapter +plunged me among the industrial arts. Under the influence of the magic +instruments I saw the foundation of England's greatness. There was an +athletic carpenter industriously sawing wood. There was a grindstone +putting an edge<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</a></span> on an axe. There were a number of whirrs, which brought +back vividly a loom I had seen at work at an exhibition, and there was a +rather asthmatic smith striking his anvil and coughing between every +blow.</p> + +<p>But this was not all. They began a third chapter, and I was immediately +among lolly-pops. All the nicest things I had ever tasted stood before +me in a row. There was a pot full of apricot jam; there was some roast +beef gravy, than which, taken on the knife, I know nothing more +toothsome; there was a sixpenny strawberry ice, and a nice cut of lamb +and mint sauce to finish up with. I was sorry when they left off, but +glad to find I was on the trace of a moral. The piece was evidently a +musical embodiment of a clean shave: the first part was the misery of +laying your head back and having your nose tweaked; the second was the +being scraped; and the last was the happy moment when you stretch your +limbs, pass your satisfied hand over your smooth chin, and nod to +yourself complacently in the glass. The moral was obvious; that it is a +duty to get shaved, and not to shave yourself, but to go to the +professional man. My next experiment was to hear a young lady sing. She +came on the platform, looking lovely, and she had on a sash and a dress +improver that I never saw equalled for elegance. My hopes rose at the +sight of her. I felt sure that so much beauty could not be otherwise +than moral. "Oh, do be moral! do be moral!" I kept saying to myself, as +the accompanist opened fire on her song. A dreadful thought then arose: +the words of her song would taint the experiment, which was to be on +music alone. But, to my delight, I could not catch a word of what she +sang. It was all pure music. Her sweet song suggested to me as follows: +I first saw her running up stairs and down again as fast as ever she +could, and then she sat down on the mat to rest, while the piano panted. +Then she drew out from somewhere one long, straight note, thick in the +middle and tapering off at each end, so seductive that I fancied myself +a storm-tossed mariner listening to a mermaid. I could almost feel the +waves of the Margate boat gurgle around me. Then she drew a jug of hot +water out of the boiler—at least, that was its intellectual +significance to me, because the note went steadily rising upwards, with +little splashes in between, just like the sound of the water when I draw +a jug to shave a customer. Then she ran upstairs again like lightning, +and disappeared through the tiles, while the pianist banged the front +door to. I am sure there was a splendid moral to all this, for she +looked so beautiful and smiled so sweetly; but I am undecided whether +the moral was that I was to sign the pledge, or that I was not to go to +concerts without Jemima as a safeguard.</p> + +<p>I next gave myself up bodily to what they called a "concerto." When I +saw several gentlemen come on to the platform, with a variety of +instruments, I thought it would be a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</a></span> more serious experiment than the +others, and so it proved. I kept my eyes on them when they first began, +but they looked so comical—one with his cheeks blown out, another with +his hair as if it had just been machined, another trying to get his arm +round his fiddle's waist, and another jerking his eyes out of his +head—that I felt it was not giving the music a fair chance, so I shut +my own eyes tight. As soon as I had done so there was no end of +intellectual significance. I was in a pleasure van just starting for +Hampton Court, with Jemima. There was the jog trot of the horses, and +every now and then the skid put on; there was laughter and the puffing +of pipes, and occasionally a loud roar, as we crossed a big +thoroughfare. We soon got into the country and heard the birds chirping, +and there was a sweet gurgling sound, which intimated to me that the men +on the box had broached the four-gallon cask. I was just getting ready +for a glass, when all at once the whole scene vanished. The music had +stopped, and when it began again things were much altered for the worse. +With the first note I felt a shudder go down my vitals. Something was +coming, I did not know what. I felt just like being woke up in +bed by a strange noise, and no matches handy, and my razors open to +everybody on the table. Then I heard the bass fiddle say distinctly, +"Prepare to meet your doom" several times over, while the violins tried +to sneer at me, and the piano rattled chains in the corner. This was +very trying, but worse was to follow. There were faint cries and sobs +from the next room, as though murder was going on; there were long +silences which were worse to bear than any sound; then someone began to +work softly at the door with a centre bit, and there were rumblings as +though someone else was letting himself down the chimney. I fancied I +could almost see his leg. Then there was another hush, and thank heaven, +I could tell by the hand-clapping that that part was over. It was about +time, for the mental significance had got quite over-powering. There was +then a total change. The music took me back in a second to the last ball +I had been to—the eighteen-penny one, refreshments extra. I was dancing +all the dances at once, and all the girls were making up to me, and it +only made Jemima smile. That was a really delightful mental +significance, and I could have done with more of it. But I doubt whether +the concerto on the whole was moral. I am sure that ice down the back +cannot be good for anyone, nor can I see, in cool moments, that raising +the animal spirits so many degrees above proof is proper. I have not yet +concluded my experiments. I have still to try the effects of a cornet +solo; and the flute, as well as the concertina, the bones, and the +banjo. But I have no doubt that if more people would try my plan, and +honestly state the results, we should in time get at the truth of this +matter of moral music.</p> + +<p class="blockquot">(<i>From the</i> "<span class="smcap">Evening Standard</span>.")</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 80%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="BILLY_DUMPS_THE_TAILOR" id="BILLY_DUMPS_THE_TAILOR"></a>BILLY DUMPS, THE TAILOR.</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">Charles Clark.</span></h3> + +<p>Billy Dumps was very fond of spending his evenings with his two cronies, +Natty Dyer, a shoemaker, and Neddy Tueson, an umbrella mender, at the +"Cunning Cat," just round the corner. This worthy trio seldom left their +favourite haunt before closing time, much to the disgust of their +respective helpmates, Mrs. Dumps in particular.</p> + +<p>Billy Dumps was a tailor, working as <i>he</i> termed it on his own hook. As +his prices were moderate, and his work durable, he earned a pretty good +living, making and mending for his neighbours, chiefly of the dock +labouring class; but his nightly orgies at the "Cunning Cat" made sad +inroads into his hard earnings, which tended much to sour Betsy's +otherwise naturally good temper.</p> + +<p>The climax was reached one eventful evening, on the occasion of a +Free-and-Easy being held at the old quarters, after which, Billy, for +prudential reasons, was escorted home at midnight by his two associates, +all fully bent on informing the sleeping neighbourhood at the top of +their voices that they were "jolly good fellows," supplemented by a +further assertion of, "and so say all of us!" Finishing up by depositing +the confiding tailor at full length in his own front passage, through +the door being inadvertently left ajar, where he laid and snored in +blissful ignorance of the trials and troubles of this life until rather +rudely awakened, and then somewhat briskly assisted upstairs, by Betsy +and a broom handle.</p> + +<p>"Now, Mister Billy Dumps, I am tired of sitting up for you night after +night, and mean to do so no longer. So if you are not in when our clock +strikes ten, I locks the door and you finds other lodgings," exclaimed +Betsy his wife, on the morning after the Free-and-Easy.</p> + +<p>Tailor Dumps felt small after the previous night's dissipation, and +determined to get home earlier and sober that evening. But under the +influence of the soothing pipe, the nut-brown ale, and the merry laugh +and jest of his boon companions, he was induced to forget his late +resolution, and to prolong his stay at the "Cunning Cat" until aroused +to the fact that it was ten o'clock and closing-time. On reaching home, +all was still and dark. Strange! he went round to the back door and +thumped loudly. The bed-room casement flew open with a bang, from which +instantly protruded the night-capped head of the wife of his bosom. +Billy at once tried the high hand, shouting, "Now then, sleepy, what's +yer game? Be spry and open sharp!"</p> + +<p>No. She wasn't going to be spry, neither was she sleepy; and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</a></span> as to her +little game—she had locked him out according to promise, so didn't +intend unlocking again that night. Not if she knew it. Oh no!</p> + +<p>"Now, Betsy, don't be a fool, you'll repent it," he urged.</p> + +<p><i>She</i> wasn't a fool, she answered. In her opinion, he was the biggest +fool to be hammering and shivering outside at that time of night, when +he might have been comfortably lying in a warm bed hours ago. As for +repentance—she thought that would be more on his side of the door, for +she felt comfortable—very.</p> + +<p>Billy fumed and stormed, and fully felt the ridiculousness of his +position, especially as he heard sounds of the neighbouring casements +stealthily unclose, and suppressed indications of merriment issuing +therefrom. But Billy stormed to no purpose. Betsy coolly recommended him +to go back where he had spent such a pleasant evening. She was sure Mrs. +Mudge, the landlady, would be only too pleased to accommodate him with a +lodging. If she wasn't, she ought to be, considering the time and money +he spent in her house.</p> + +<p>But Billy had his own ideas of that arrangement, so still lingered, +determined to try another tack. He promised amendment, but Betsy was +sceptical. He appealed to her feelings. "Let me in, Betsy, for I am +cold!" That she could not help; as he had made his bed so he must lie. +He then became affectionate. "Oh Betsy, you are unkind: remember old +times, remember our wedding-day!" he pleaded, thinking to touch her that +way. But Betsy was not going to be had by soft sawder, for she promptly +rejoined, "Remember our wedding-day, you drunken sot? <i>I do</i> to my +sorrow, no fear of my forgetting that great mistake. But, as I told you +before, into this house this blessed night you do not step. No, not if +you were to go on your knees and beg for it!"</p> + +<p>"Ah, Betsy. You'll be sorry for this when too late. I'm determined to +end my misery. I'll jump down the well and drown myself. And you'll be +the cause of it!" whined Billy.</p> + +<p>The night was dark. Betsy felt a little relenting as she heard her +husband groping about in the wood shed. Then she could dimly discern him +making for the well; plainly hear the creaking of the hinges and the lid +thrown back with a thud. Then came the cry of "Good bye, Betsy, I'm +gone!" The dull sound of a heavy body plunging into the water—a gasping +moan, and all was still.</p> + +<p>Betsy's old affection for her erring husband at once returned with +tenfold force, for she raced downstairs, rushing into the darkness, +shrieking for help.</p> + +<p>The neighbours were aroused. Men and women tumbled out of their back +doors in such scanty dishabille that would have charmed a sculptor. +Betsy, still screeching like a bagpipe, had to be forcibly restrained +from jumping to the rescue by the bystanders.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</a></span></p> + +<p>Dick Ward, the blacksmith, thrust the bucket-pole into the well, singing +out, "Lay hold, Billy, if ye ain't too fur gone!"</p> + +<p>"I can feel un," shouted Dick, as the pole struck some hard substance +with a sounding smack.</p> + +<p>"My eye, Dick! he'll feel you too, if that's Billy's head you tapped," +said Nat; "it 'ud be one for his nob and no mistake."</p> + +<p>They caught a glimpse, by the uncertain light of a flaming candle, of a +something floating low on the surface of the water.</p> + +<p>"His head feels as hard as a koker nut," said Dick, as the pole rattled +on the dark object.</p> + +<p>"Why it seems off his shoulders, for it goes bobbing up and down like a +dumplin in a soup-kettle!"</p> + +<p>Just then, to the astonishment of all, the well known voice of Billy +Dumps was heard from the identical bed-room window that his wife had so +lately vacated, shouting, "Hullo, you people. What the deuce are ye +making such a rumpas for?"</p> + +<p>"A ghost! A ghost!" was the cry.</p> + +<p>"No fear," laughed the tailor. "But, Dick, as you have the pole in hand, +I should feel obliged if you'd fish up my chopping-block which I dropped +in there awhile ago!"</p> + +<p>Betsy Dumps at the sound of her husband's voice, made for the door, but +found it fastened. "Let me in! Let me in! I am so glad you are safe!" +she joyously exclaimed.</p> + +<p>"Not if I know it, Betsy. It's my turn now. <i>Into this house this +blessed night you do not step. No, not if you were to go on your knees +and beg for it!</i>"</p> + +<p>A loud laugh broke from the crowd, as the joke dawned on them. Betsy was +being paid back in her own coin. The neighbourhood had been sold. The +crafty tailor had secured the chopping-block from the wood shed, and +popped it down the well as his substitute, then, in the darkness and +confusion slipped back into the house unseen. Betsy, having been +accommodated for the night by a friendly neighbour, the crowd dispersed, +highly amused at the adventure. Early the next morning, Mrs. Dumps on +returning home was surprised to find her husband up, a cheerful fire +burning, and the breakfast ready. Taking her hand he gave her a hearty +kiss, with this greeting, "Dear old woman, let bygones be bygones!" And +they were, too; for from that time the "Cunning Cat" knew him no more. +It struck him strongly that his wife's true affection shown in the hour +of his supposed great danger was too precious to trifle with; as a proof +that he kept his word, let it be added that anyone visiting that large +thriving tailoring establishment in the High Street, would hardly +recognise in the respectable dapper proprietor, Mr. William Dumps, the +once drunken tailor so long a nightly nuisance to the neighbourhood.</p> + +<p class="blockquot">(<i>By permission of the Author.</i>)</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 80%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="ON_PUNNING" id="ON_PUNNING"></a>ON PUNNING.</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">Theodore Hook.</span></h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">My little dears who learn to read, pray early learn to shun<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That very silly thing indeed, which people call a pun.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Read Entick's rules, and 'twill be found, how simple an offence<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It is to make the self-same sound afford a double sense.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">For instance, <i>ale</i> may make you <i>ail</i>, your <i>aunt</i> an <i>ant</i> may kill,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You in a <i>vale</i> may buy a <i>veil</i> and <i>Bill</i> may pay the <i>bill</i>.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or, if to France your bark may steer, at Dover it may be,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A <i>peer</i> appears upon the <i>pier</i>, who, blind, still goes to <i>sea</i>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Thus, one might say, when to a treat good friends accept our greeting,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Tis <i>meet</i> that men who <i>meet</i> to eat should eat their <i>meat</i> when <i>meeting</i>.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Brawn on the <i>board's</i> no bore indeed although from <i>boar</i> prepared;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor can the <i>fowl</i>, on which we feed, <i>foul</i> feeding he declared.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Thus, one ripe fruit may be a <i>pear</i>, and yet be <i>pared</i> again,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And still no <i>one</i>, which seemeth rare until we do explain.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It therefore should be all your aim to spell with ample care;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For who, however fond of <i>game</i>, would choose to swallow <i>hair</i>?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A fat man's <i>gait</i> may make us smile, who has no <i>gate</i> to close;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The farmer, sitting on his <i>stile</i> no <i>sty</i>lish person knows.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Perfumers, men of <i>scents</i> must be, some <i>Scilly</i> men are bright;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A <i>brown</i> man oft <i>deep read</i> we see, a <i>black</i> a wicked <i>wight</i>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Most wealthy men good <i>manors</i> have, however vulgar they;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And actors still the harder slave the oftener they <i>play</i>.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So poets can't the <i>baize</i> obtain, unless their tailors choose;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While grooms and coachmen not in vain each evening seek the <i>Mews</i>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The <i>dyer</i>, who by <i>dying</i> lives, a <i>dire</i> life maintains;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The glazier, it is known, receives his profits for his <i>panes</i>.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By gardeners <i>thyme</i> is tied, 'tis true, when spring is in its prime;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But <i>time</i> and <i>tide</i> won't wait for you if you are <i>tied</i> for <i>time</i>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Thus now you see, my little dears, the way to make a pun;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A trick which you, through coming years, should sedulously shun.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The fault admits of no defence, for wheresoe'er 'tis found,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You sacrifice the <i>sound</i> for <i>sense</i>; the <i>sense</i> is never <i>sound</i>.<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</a></span></div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">So let your words and actions, too, one single meaning prove,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And just in all you say or do, you'll gain esteem and love.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In mirth and play no harm you'll know when duty's task is done;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But parents ne'er should let ye go un<i>pun</i>ished for a <span class="smcap">Pun</span>.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 80%;" /> +<h2><a name="SEASIDE_LODGINGS" id="SEASIDE_LODGINGS"></a>SEASIDE LODGINGS.</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">Percy Reeve.</span></h3> + +<p>"Oh!" said Georgina Honeybee one afternoon, just before Good Friday, +"<i>wouldn't</i> it be nice to go away for Easter?"</p> + +<p>Now it so happened, that the notion was by no means displeasing to Mr. +Honeybee. He longed for a change; the thought of sea-breezes enchanted +him. He felt worried with work, and yearned to hie him away somewhere +without leaving his address behind him. So it fell out that, almost for +the first time in his married existence, he agreed to his wife's +proposition without demur—and long before a week was over, he never +regretted anything so much in all his life.</p> + +<p>With husband and wife of one mind (for a wonder), the preliminaries were +speedily arranged. Swineleigh-on-Sea was selected as their destination. +In less time than it takes to tell, Georgina was bustling about the +house, giving parting instructions to the servants as to what they were +to do during her absence (one would have thought she was going away for +a year at least). Fanny (Mrs. Honeybee's maid, if you please) was +packing-up her mistress's luggage, while John was being abused by his +master for having no more idea than a child of how to fill a +portmanteau. Everybody was hot and flurried, and the hall-door bell rang +four times before it received the attention to which it was accustomed.</p> + +<p>Honeybee stood in his shirt-sleeves, and in his dressing-room, while his +perspiring and nervous man endeavoured to put boots on the top of clean +shirts. Georgina flitted about her bedroom, saying—"Yes; thank you; if +you'll put in my tea-gown. Yes; thank you—now the linen. Yes; thank +you—no, I shouldn't lay the sponge-bag on the top of my handkerchief +case. Yes; thank you—now the braided dress;" and sundry pretty babble +of that kind.</p> + +<p>At length everything was ready. A four-wheeled cab was called, and Mr. +Honeybee, Georgina, and Fanny the maid, were soon driving across London +to the railway-station. Their<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</a></span> tickets got, the trio proceeded without +adventure to Swineleigh, where, when she emerged from the slightly +inferior class in which she had travelled, Fanny remarked to her +mistress:</p> + +<p>"This don't seem half a bad sort of place, mum."</p> + +<p>Honeybee was beaming. His face seemed to say: "Ah! I tell you, when I +<i>do</i> take it into my head to go out for a holiday with my wife and her +maid, I go to the right place, and I have things done properly." Poor +man—he little knew.</p> + +<p>Swineleigh is, fortunately, not a large place, or its death rate would +have more influence on the mortality statistics; but it is quite large +enough to be unpleasant, and to make those who have once visited it +swear they will never do so again. Honeybee had heard it was cheap from +a gentleman friend, and Georgina had gathered from a lady acquaintance +that it was quiet and respectable—hence the praiseworthy unanimity +which had characterised their selection of this spot for the enjoyment +of an Easter holiday. They had meant to put up at the Marine Hotel, but +when they reached that modest edifice they found that all the rooms were +engaged, excepting a couple of dog-holes somewhere near the roof, which, +from their description, our party did not care to inspect. Honeybee was, +however, directed to some lodgings which sounded as if they might suit, +and with a crack of the whip, and a curse from the flyman, who had +conveyed them thus far, the party started off on a fresh tack. When they +reached Cronstadt Villa—for it was hither they were referred—Mr. +Honeybee opened fire as follows upon the landlady who opened the door:</p> + +<p>"We come from the Marine Hotel. Can we have a large bed-room, a small +bed-room, a dressing-room and a sitting-room?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," replied the landlady, somewhat reflectively, as if she felt +inclined to add, "But what you mean by such impertinence I am at a loss +to inquire."</p> + +<p>"Good!" rejoined Honeybee. "Will you have our luggage sent up as soon as +may be? And we should like dinner pretty soon, as we have not had much +lunch."</p> + +<p>"Come inside, please," said the landlady, grandly, to the trio in +general. Then elbowing Fanny out of the way, she said to Mrs. Honeybee +particularly: "Would you like to see your room?"</p> + +<p>"Thank you very much," returned Georgina, "I should."</p> + +<p>Then the newly-made friends walked upstairs together, leaving Honeybee +and Fanny to get the luggage up, and to fight the flyman. Mercifully, a +loafer turned up and volunteered to carry the boxes. Mr. Honeybee only +paid the flyman three times his fare, but escaped without loss of blood. +It is true the driver thought proper to curse him to the nethermost +depths of hell, but what are you to do in a place like Swineleigh, where +you might as well look for the Pope as for a policeman?<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[Pg 142]</a></span></p> + +<p>At last the baggage was stowed in the different rooms indicated by the +landlady. Fanny could not help smiling when the loafer set down +Honeybee's portmanteau with a plump on her bed; and Georgina could not +help saying "Oh!" when Fanny's box was hauled into <i>her</i> room; but these +little mistakes were soon rectified, and the loafer being evidently one +of nature's noblemen, withdrew without further parley when he had +received all the loose silver there was in the house. The landlady had +not any change.</p> + +<p>"Now then," said Honeybee, when the door was fairly shut, "when can we +have dinner, and of what will it consist?"</p> + +<p>"Dinner!" repeated the landlady, as if recalling by an effort the +meaning of a word once familiar. "Have you not dined?"</p> + +<p>"Not to-day," replied Honeybee, jocosely; "but we do not want +much—anything will do. How about a fried sole and a roast chicken?"</p> + +<p>It was now seven o'clock, and the landlady verified the fact by +reference to a silver watch, which she plucked with a jerk from her +waistband.</p> + +<p>"Shops are all closed now," she said, as it seemed, with some relief. "I +might get you a steak, or a couple of chops."</p> + +<p>"If you will add bread and butter, the use of the cruets, and perchance +some cheese or jam," suggested Honeybee in his most caressing tones, +while his wife endeavoured vainly to prevent him treading upon what she +knew was volcanic ground, "I'm sure we could manage for to-night."</p> + +<p>"Well, you'll have to," replied the landlady, in a surly voice, and then +she rang the bell in the room, which was to be the Honeybee's dining, +drawing, and smoking room for a week. To this summons a most horrible +"maid" responded, and to her were consigned Georgina and her spouse. The +landlady never was seen again until she came eventually to present the +bill; but her voice was frequently heard. Honeybee's good-nature by this +time was giving out; but he controlled himself.</p> + +<p>"Will you," said he, "get us some food ready as soon as you can? We +would like a beef-steak. Will half-past seven be too early?"</p> + +<p>"No, sir," replied the maid, in a far-off voice; and she left the room.</p> + +<p>"Now," said Honeybee, "Georgina, my dearest, you must be tired. Come +upstairs and change your dress; Fanny will get you hot water and see to +you. I will just wash my hands and then take a short stroll. Come +along."</p> + +<p>When they reached the bedroom they found Fanny in a great undertaking. +Having unpacked Georgina's trunk, and littered the floor with dresses +and parcels, she was about to arrange the different articles in the +chest of drawers, when she found them all locked up.</p> + +<p>"This is absurd," said Honeybee; and he rang the bell.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</a></span> After a very +long time the horrible maid appeared, and when asked why all the drawers +were looked, replied, with a wild-eyed expression of face, that she +supposed "missus's things was there." Desired to ask missus to remove +them, or to provide other accommodation for her tenants, the wild-eyed +one remarked that she "dursen't do it."</p> + +<p>Georgina, always trying to soothe troubled waters, observed, "Never +mind; we shall get straight to-morrow somehow. I'm so tired; it does not +matter for to-night. Only unpack what I absolutely want, Fanny; and you, +dear," to her husband, "go and have a nice stroll, but be back by +half-past seven, as I'm famishing."</p> + +<p>So enjoined, Honeybee kissed his wife, and withdrew.</p> + +<p>A cursory inspection of the contents of his portmanteau soon convinced +him that John had omitted to put in a good many useful articles; and as +Mr. Honeybee made a hasty toilette, he was pained to observe that he had +brought with him an odd coat and waistcoat. Even this might have been +borne, if the bottle containing his boot-varnish had not broken over his +shirts; and with a heavy heart he sallied forth into the town to buy a +tooth-brush.</p> + +<p>Having made his purchase, and also ordered some wine, he returned to the +lodgings, where he found his wife waiting in the sitting-room warming +her feet, while the maid laid the table. About five minutes to eight +"dinner" was served. It consisted of a beef-steak that was raw, except +in those parts which had been burnt to a cinder; some potatoes which +were very black under the eyes, and extremely hard, were also served; +and some of last week's bread, together with some pale butterine, +completed the repast. The Honeybees endeavoured to eat a few mouthfuls, +washed down with cold and not particularly pure water. Although the wine +merchant had assured Honeybee that the rare vintage he had ordered would +be "there before he was," the young man did not arrive with the bottles +until the next morning.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps the night is too inclement for him to venture out," said +Honeybee; "or perhaps he reflects that we shall drink coffee with our +dinner, and only require wine at breakfast time."</p> + +<p>After dinner the Honeybees had a game of cribbage, but they +did not enjoy it, and soon Georgina went up to bed. Honeybee +left her with Fanny, and then came downstairs again to smoke. +He rang the bell and asked the maid if he could have a bottle +of soda-water.</p> + +<p>"The public 'ouses is all closed now," said she, as if repeating a +lesson.</p> + +<p>"Then some plain water please," returned Honeybee dolefully.</p> + +<p>"You'll find some in your bedroom," was the reply.</p> + +<p>With a heavy heart Honeybee went upstairs and took a long<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[Pg 144]</a></span> and strong +drink of brandy from his flask, diluted from the bottle on his +wash-stand. A fearful night it was—the miserable couple passed it in +fear and trembling. Outside the wind howled and made the ill-fitting +windows rattle continuously. Within the blinds refused to draw down, and +the feather bed was so meagrely filled with feathers that when sleep +began to steal upon Honeybee, he awoke to find himself with his hip-bone +grating against the iron frame of the bedstead. The draught came in +under the door with some force. This was not surprising when one came to +examine the distance between it and the floor. The interval seemed +contrived so as to admit of the carpet being drawn out of the room +without opening the door.</p> + +<p>Bruised and weary, the Honeybees rose next morning. It was raining very +hard, as it had been all night. For breakfast they had some fried eggs +and bacon. The eggs would have been all right if they had been warmed +through; but Honeybee said raw egg was good for the voice. The bacon +would have brought its own punishment to the Jew wicked enough to +indulge in it. They read novels most of the morning. Georgina and Fanny +were occasionally in consultation as to some proposed alterations to a +dress. Honeybee looked out of the window like a caged lion.</p> + +<p>Ah, Heavens! but why should I follow further the agonies of these +wretched people. Indeed, I shrink from recording the sickening details +of their week's stay. The disgusting round of impertinence, +uncleanliness, stupidity, and brutality to which they were subjected is +too odious to recount. Suffice it to say that never had Waterloo Villa +looked so fair as when the Honeybees returned to it after their +"holiday," and Georgina literally danced round the bright clean +dining-room table laid ready for dinner, while Honeybee threw himself +groaning on to his bed, where he lay till aroused by the rattle of +plates and dishes. My goodness, how he did eat! And how Georgina beamed!</p> + +<p class="blockquot">(<i>By permission of the Author.</i>)</p> + + +<h4>THE END.</h4> + +<p> </p> +<h5>BRADBURY, AGNEW, & CO., PRINTERS, WHITEFRIARS.</h5> + +<hr style="width: 25%;" /> +<div class="notebox"> +<p><b>TRANSCRIBER'S NOTE:</b> Obvious misprints and punctuation errors have been silently corrected.</p> +</div> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Humorous Readings and Recitations, by Various + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HUMOROUS READINGS AND RECITATIONS *** + +***** This file should be named 36775-h.htm or 36775-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/6/7/7/36775/ + +Produced by Delphine Lettau and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project +Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you +charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you +do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the +rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose +such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and +research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do +practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is +subject to the trademark license, especially commercial +redistribution. + + + +*** START: FULL LICENSE *** + +THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK + +To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project +Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project +Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at +http://gutenberg.org/license). + + +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works + +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy +all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession. +If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the +terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or +entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. + +1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement +and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. See paragraph 1.E below. + +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation" +or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the +collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an +individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are +located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from +copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative +works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg +are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project +Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by +freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of +this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with +the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by +keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project +Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others. + +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in +a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check +the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement +before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or +creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project +Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning +the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United +States. + +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: + +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate +access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently +whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the +phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project +Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, +copied or distributed: + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived +from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is +posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied +and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees +or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work +with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the +work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 +through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the +Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or +1.E.9. + +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional +terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked +to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the +permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. + +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. + +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg-tm License. + +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any +word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or +distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than +"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version +posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org), +you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a +copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon +request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other +form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. + +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided +that + +- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is + owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he + has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the + Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments + must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you + prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax + returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and + sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the + address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to + the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." + +- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm + License. You must require such a user to return or + destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium + and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of + Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any + money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days + of receipt of the work. + +- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set +forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from +both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael +Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the +Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. + +1.F. + +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm +collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain +"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual +property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a +computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by +your equipment. + +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right +of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. + +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with +your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with +the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a +refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity +providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to +receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy +is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further +opportunities to fix the problem. + +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS' WITH NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO +WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. + +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. +If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the +law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be +interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by +the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any +provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. + +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance +with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, +promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, +harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, +that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do +or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm +work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any +Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause. + + +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm + +Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers +including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists +because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from +people in all walks of life. + +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need, are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations. +To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 +and the Foundation web page at http://www.pglaf.org. + + +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive +Foundation + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at +http://pglaf.org/fundraising. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent +permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. + +The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. +Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered +throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at +809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email +business@pglaf.org. Email contact links and up to date contact +information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official +page at http://pglaf.org + +For additional contact information: + Dr. Gregory B. Newby + Chief Executive and Director + gbnewby@pglaf.org + + +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation + +Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide +spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. + +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To +SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any +particular state visit http://pglaf.org + +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. + +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. + +Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. +To donate, please visit: http://pglaf.org/donate + + +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. + +Professor Michael S. Hart is the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm +concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared +with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project +Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. + + +Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. +unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + http://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. + + +</pre> + +</body> +</html> diff --git a/36775-h/images/cover.jpg b/36775-h/images/cover.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..196ba29 --- /dev/null +++ b/36775-h/images/cover.jpg diff --git a/36775-h/images/i-003.jpg b/36775-h/images/i-003.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..ccc79c1 --- /dev/null +++ b/36775-h/images/i-003.jpg |
